Van Gogh's crows perched all over this town,
stuck in the updrafts, riding the fog's hard edge,
doe carcass, possum body, urinary rivers
and the rancher's overflow all feeding the flying herds
of these great black caretakers.
Defiant on the roadside, jay hunted in the low sky,
yet climbing in from the distance
on a rapid shadow bullet flight, these birds ascend
and dive, rise and hold, and there,
in the hunting climb where meadow, sky and tree
blend yellow, blue and thick green, then the black,
the blue background yellow bottomed canvas comes alive
with the specter's held in eternal flight...
yeah, that's it,
the picture holds,
and it's Van Gogh's crows all over town.
