Crow Poem

No creature loiters nonchalantly like a crow.
Like: how’s it going bud? I’m only sitting here
because it’s hella comfy of a spot. Chill, bro.
And as I walk if he should happen to appear
upon a wire, and then a fence, and then a branch…
Coincidence. He’s headed this way too, perchance,
for reasons of his own, inscrutable to me.
How could I, with my blinkered human mind, presume to know
the motives of a crow?

But when, “on accident,” I drop a peanut — oops! —
All pretense, and his body, falls at last. He swoops
to claim his secret patiently awaited prize.
I see it was his angle all along, ’cause I have eyes.
I think I’m so damn smart and see right through him, but
he did get me to drop the nut.