THE MUSEYou owe me. Pay up. According to my accounts, you have...
CASUAL FRIENDSend lies to the people listed below....
THE AWARDS COMMITTEEThis is to notify you that--but what's the use?...
THE WISEThe world could fall to pieces with no notice....
UNCLE ALA chicken is a touchy creature....
THE OTHERSHere where we live the lines are down and the surprises build into snowbanks...
DANNYDusty Clinton Township kids making paper roosters and snowball...
SAMUEL RENSBERGER I am your grandfather's grandfather and through my wakeless sleep I dream...
OLD NEIGHBOREast across low muddy fields and behind the screening trees you can see...
THE WORM COUNCILWe call your attention to worms. Though sweeping ice age disaster...
THE HERONI flew in down by the round deep pond behind your house...
WITNESSI saw the largest moon ever rise huge bright yellow, sailing where it cared to...
FLYING WITH THE CROWS
Enter March. Wind scants
cold in the sleeping hedges.
Crows call. They have
bad hearts, cry remorse
and make special pleas.
See them skate twice
manheight over the hill:
wings stroke, hold, stroke.
I go flying on their backs
down the open side of the pasture,
slack-mouthed and trembling,
clutching hard black feathers,
my bad heart pouring out
in whoops and caws.