OMINOUS

The crows do not know you.
Prepare: the clock ticks on.

The vultures swarm around
The dead

The pigeons soar above
The bustling city

The ravens cry out:

“Rejoice!
For we have found another
Of our own!”

The grandfather clock in their living room
Still haunts me.
How do the elderly deal with
The constant reminder of time?

Do they not know that they are time incarnate?
Do they forget their conception is decades behind them,
Death closer than birth?

Why would you want a clock to chime on the hour
Reminding you of how Death himself
Is waiting on your doorstep?

Tick.
Tick.
Tick.

Crows follow my brother around.
They are omens, I’ve heard.
I wonder what they are trying to tell him.

Luck is his God
The Universe, mine
The Bible didn’t do much for me
Aside from teaching me a bit about leprosy.

I am a leper among the well.
And so are you.

We must wear masks, like the plague doctors
In hopes that the virus we carry
Does not spread like butter on toast
To our families.

Hush, now.
The crows are listening.
Goodnight.