Changing Their Spots

By | 1 May 2019

the crows were crowding under the tree
not riding wind waves waffling branches
not jabbing groundhogs nor hazing blue jays
just pecking the earth, knock, knock
asking forgiveness to enter the fold
promising good behavior
offering to return shiny gems
to underground dragons’ grasps
seeking eternal sun and guiltless nights
of myths that feed dreams
for amelioration ablution absolution
to blanch their thieving livers long enough
to firework water sprites’ grottos
to fog machine air sylphs and quetzals
to bulldoze dwarves out of house and home
to piss salamanders’ tempers to wrinkled alligator skin
then sneak back up the wormholes
to chuckle the summer away at their cleverness
and the underworld’s hope
of crows changing their spots

This entry was posted in 91: MONSTER and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Related work:

Comments are closed.