Stalemate, lingering past due
Trespassing future
Moments that might otherwise result in something useful

Like crows, catching sight of one on the wire to the left
Just sitting there, maybe waiting
They have it made
Singular or in a group, crows have it made

Like the barely there mushroom tat
Riding her little finger,
Scanning for the song

Sometimes, she was not of
or for
this earth
Underneath, in small letters

It depends on what you want—ornaments or food

Like this:
It was in a Civil War cemetery,
and we were conjuring
The heartbreaking story of a man who loved nature and reading
A bride, in a wedding dress every Sunday, putting out lunch
For two years after the lay

He thought about her as a song to the rhythm of seams in the road

Until wires on the side
Until crows giving no quarter
Asking none
Singular or in a group, they took nothing not granted

Singular or in a group, they had it made

fiction non-fiction poetry art sounds