THIS CROW HERE
knows who I am& what I do here.
Knows where he goes,
knows who owns what,knows what’s what,
knows he knows.
His broad black voicelets me know he knows he knows
We both belong here.
How well we know it both.
Our cats and I,
our small family
this minor territory.
The small black shining buttons
one each side of head,see me
From the top of his tall treehe yells
I’ll see you laterin hell
HAW HAW HAW
No needfor either of us
I can wait, and so can he.
The leaves of the fallare already falling from the trees.
You can go to hell, he thinks,and see me there.
Sooner or later,early enough.
A black wire through the branchesof his tree
to the rest of humanity.
Upon this wire,
just another tree branch
beneath his black eyes and his black feet.
On the bottoms of those sharpened feet,the itch of electrons
passes through the wire,
our human speech,other tongues, not his,
that come to speak to me.
Time alone can tellwho will be
the first & last to leave
haw haw haw