The crow tapped on my window twice. Like bursts of tiny, quiet gunfire. The first time, I was sleeping. I sat upright in bed, sweating. The crow was in my dream. It was Lisa, talking to me through the window. Lisa was the crow. “You’re a crow?” I asked. “Looks like it,” she answered, and I could hear her through the glass. The second time, I was awake now, heart pounding in my chest and my pulse drumming in my ears. I turned to the window and it was real and I looked right into its eyes.
Don’t move away from home
Don’t be friends with people who will die
Don’t drive through the quiet country town/scene of a massacre
Don’t come out from under that rock
Or you will always feel like this
These days we go to waste like wine
That’s turned to turpentine
It’s six AM and I’m all messed up
I didn’t mean to waste your time
So I’ll fall back in line
But I’m warning you we’re growing up
On each side of the cross walk at Main Street and Campbell Avenue in West Haven, CT. SPRUCE UP YOUR SOUL, neighbor.