Poem & The thing about crows
by Steven Waling
[ poetry - march 09 ]
Poem
to go to school next to a graveyard
is to feel the sharp point of a pencil
in the small of your soul one day God
says look at this décor (fishing nets
and cardboard cut-out salt pots) such
literalists my people have no imagination
but you follow anyhow sheepish someone
clips you round the ear at regular
intervals when all you'd like to do
is read about Martians in the library
do homework they teach you to do
real writing which is useful forgery
for cheques and bouncing poetry some
where someone is drawing conclusions
The thing about crows
no pretending
when they poke beaks
into poetry like
old Victorian vicars
they're not original
someone's got there
before with the apt
description
this basalt hill
impossible to say
it's the first time
anyone's noticed
how it tunes in and out
pours in the rain
down sopping
cafe windows
not the first
nor the last time
anyone's thought
how the swallows
dive whooping like
kids playing jets
though you might
not see it again
it's normal for life
to be this
beauteous
