Vultures

there they were
on the way to work
flying in the summer blue
nine black silhouettes

the kid stepping out
of a new Audi sedan
points up and says to his mom
eagles
but Billy Last Crow
can see the large separate
feathers the blue cloudlessness
between them

in his mind they are ready
to flap down upon the remains
of a homeless person
who didn't make it
through one more city night
what other carrion
calls this much hunger

Billy wonders himself
how he makes it

the concrete rumble
the endless pounding
construction somewhere
always somewhere
in this sick world
Last Crow wants to correct
the boy next to him
and his mother who smiles
yeah look how they soar
wants to say
that's not soaring that's
circling
wants to say to her
fine clothes and leather shoes
expensive hairdo
some poor bastard
died in an alley dumpster
but he knows her reaction
sees her grabbing
the head of the boy
cradling it close to her body
don't listen Bobby
it's always a Bobby
don't listen to him
they're beautiful eagles
soaring in our city
just for us


Halloween

it is the end
October in its reds and yellows
and Billy Last Crow is passing
through this town like a ghost
boots knocking the sidewalk

if this town were somewhere else
the police would stop him
for not belonging

nice neighborhood
it is the end of the day
and children are coming outside
dressed as the latest cultural myths
WWF gods and japanese anime stars
walking past the SUVs
and other luxury cars

on a telephone wire
a raven stares Edgar Allen
at Billy striding by
as the sun gutters he steps
into a crosswalk thinking this might be
his last night

his feet hurt from the miles
for a moment he doesn't know
what state this is
rattlers in his stomach as the first
police car rolls into view

a drifting indian is a ghost in this world
or he becomes one soon enough

out of instinct
Billy Last Crow drops his eyes
to his boots avoiding looking at
the houses
the cars
the kids
the cops
and he walks a little faster
mutters a new old indian prayer

get my ass out of here

he feels the cops staring at him
as they drive by slowly
in another town
they would have just pulled
up along side
they would have had him spread
eagle on the hot engine hood
straps to their revolvers undone
and waiting for him to speak up
to say something Sitting Bull
or Crazy Horse

Billy prays for fast legs
and invisibility
he doesn't look back at them
knows they are back there
watching his long hair swaying
he sees a group of kids
on the sidewalk before him

little spidermen and austin powers
laughing and talking loud
a princess or fairy
the suspicious eye of a cross
armed parent
and a little fellow 4 years old
wearing hollywood indian skins

this crazy world
being what you are
can get you killed
and to be something
untrue unreal
will get you candy