Roman Ryan

Do crows get cold
riffling the rain?
I shiver
for your post-chaste.

You've got even
more death on you 
than that unmarked street sign
from which you dine
on anything at all.

Are you on time
for your appointment
with murder?

This birder whets both ears
tuned to the damp hope
for a cataclysmic redwood
thrilled with your cause.