A Crow on the Road

I ain’t seen no crow do no killin’,
never in a day.
Shit, they ain’t even a squabble.
I seen a lot a’ crows
on a lot a’ roads,
courteous as squaredance,
bobbin’ over coon, skunk,
whatever red,
always cool to clear the way
and wait fer a passin’.

I ain’t seen no dead crow neither,
not a one.
I seen ’em harried though,
hammered like B-17’s
swattin’ one o’ nines.
But that ain’t no nevermind.

Pigeons, yep. Lotsa pigeons.
Slapped a few sparra’s on the grill.
Never took a pheasant
but I seen ’em,
all broke feather
and bonnet in the ditch.

Baldies?
Now that’s a bird that’s got one
helluva marketin’ department.
Proud one that.
Eats the eyes and ass first.
Runs off the competition.
Damn things don’t know
bumpers from blimps.
But wha’ d’ya do?

A con-vo-cation, yep,
that’s what they call ’em –
hell, we almost snuffed ’em
clean out and now we call ’em
a convocation?
Seems a bit bent to me.
But there ya’ have it –
a convocation a’eagles,
a murder a’ crows.
Just goes to show ya’,
them namers don’t know.

Image: Hannes Wolf on Unsplash

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