The Carrion Crow

4-6-2017 ~Carrion Crow~

The Carrion Crow


He’s chasing a barking dog

someone else’s mutt

The howling in his brain

offers no respite

invites him to leave the damned thing alone

Relegated to sitting for step-animals

he imagines them run over by buses

easier to sit for as road kill

sustenance for his better friend

the carrion crow

its legion of death


Is it rice in our brain or an infestation

maggots crawling where flies have bred

There is no wicked for the rest

because we evil it

worm it away deep


searching for the ringer

in a city of bells

Her dark stockings, no underclothes

the carrion crow

leaves its dark issue in her belly hole


Vanguards of waste

not want not more of the hunt

without the un-involvement of prey

no quibbling thrill of the kill

She invites seven strangers

to the table of her sex

insists her husband watch them dine

who stabs her with a crucifix

kisses her blood bubble mouth

The carrion crow

is her feast of prayer


© 2017 artwork, music & words

conceived by & property of

Tom (WordWulf) Sterner 2017 ©

via Poetry – Tom (WordWulf) Sterner


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