Monday, November 7, 2016

Crow’s Valentine (for Dave)

Out here at the poetry factory of love
Out here among the smashed windows
Of crumbling structures the weeds
And trees coming up through the floors
Where the great poems are not made
Anymore in the thousands as
They once were so every family
Could have a few lost
In some drawer or quoted
On a ring before the price
Of rhetoric went through the roof
And the last days of penmanship
Had yet to caw their way
Into our poemless future

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