On Juarez Road

Someone is poisoning crows
They are dropping on the road’s
rough hide near my house

Their faces move
in leaves of slate
like an absent father

Somewhere a car salesman
lies in shrink wrap
Ants have left the door open

Rain goes back up
into the sky
in aluminum circles

The crows are
falling thicker now
like a fire of pencils

They dream
of black plum gall
their feral mission work

I bite my lip
against the world’s
dark mouth

2 responses to “On Juarez Road

  1. Craig: This is a very good poem about death, as I read it. The images and language interact well, drawing the reader in. The road’s rough hide, the dead crow’s faces like leaves of slate, the shrinkwrapped dead s as salesman. The rain’s artificial recycle aided by aluminium drains. Stark, powerful.

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  2. thanks bro! I’m never too sure what they are about until well after I feel they are done enough to share. Often it is a close read from others that helps a lot!


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