Crow Shit


We are all too familiar with the graffiti on windscreens
Crow shit leaving smears like dendritic neurons or astral bodies

And these corvids, sinister, diabolical, darker than midnight
Seemingly hover at will, on electric wires and skeleton trees

They are omnivores that beak around for wriggly worms
Residue of rice packets inside open garbage bins or run-over yard mice

And what they feed slips through alimentary canals, digested by arsenals of enzymes
As feed slowly transforms to detritus

Man too, like crows, are hearty scavengers of what litters the human form
Seemingly imperfection is beautiful – our own brokenness being fed

And feed is minced, ground and deconstructed
And miraculously shit appears at the other end

And we fly away dropping gravity bombs at will
And we go about coughing out two words

“Shit happens”.

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