Crows
The boys are hungry
the boys are circling
the boys are singing
their anthem in the dark
where there is no shame:
there is not enough
there's never enough.
The road shines tonight
to blind all the stars
and the floor lights up
a storm of painted eyes:
the boys watch closely
the boys will fluster.
It is the same furious
dance over and again.
The boys don't mind
the boys won't cry
and if they're crying
they're crying more.
Natural Selections
University of Iowa Press






