The first crow stretches a wing like its hailing a cab
The second spreads both like its taking off a trenchcoat
The first eyeballs me one more time,
opening its beak to caw:
“Think he’s up to something, bawss?”
And the second crow blinks and turns to me
it shakes its feathers and replies
“Nah kid, he ain’t up to nothin’”
The second all “somethin’s always up, kid”
and “can’tcha feel it, kid?”
and “I’m gettin’ too old for this shit.”
by Harry Harris