"Do you mean the attack is routine?" 

A bird asked of a bird 

"In this context, a concave nest, 

how do we learn to hurt?" 



"Do you mean there's no variation?" 

watching a dog charge a flock 

of birds exploding in congregation 

"Why plan, when when we stop?" 



"I dunno...but why suppose 

it's not the way it should be? 

When you can fly above the great waiting list, 

as the crow implies we won't be missed, 

we can 

leave 

we can 

leave 

we can 

leave." 



It's a routine flight for this bird tonight 

There's more worms than earth 

in the afterlife 

Where the blind feed the blind, 

whispering things like; 

"On the money" and "Bullseye" 

She picks up the little leaves 

Where human wrecks are left to seed 

Left to repaint their deities 

and plaster away at their villainies 

Where there's love 

there's hope 



"And do you hope those earthbound poets 

could learn to sing as good as us? 

So we can sit back and enjoy our illusions 

and our quietus?" 



"Well I don't now...but why suppose it's 

not the way it should be. 

When you can squawk and wait for word from above 

and change yourself into something you love 

when you 

leave 

when you 

leave 

you leave?"