[ameably, The Crows Ran For Draino] Poem by Aaron Eliad

[ameably, The Crows Ran For Draino]



Ameably, the crows ran for draino
from the perch we shared.

it set them back about nine dollars.

I cried on the perch alone.
there are miles to go before I’m glad,
there is one chicken for every egg.

I called you a light in the village,
and now there are many,
and my map of love
is better than brevity could ever make.

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