Eleanor’s Naked Again

Outside my window

a murder of crows

wasting time cawing

when they could be flying

with the wind, Joe Cocker

Doris Day, and my old friend Leonard.

What the hell are they thinking

Edgar’s not around this little town?

He died once and never more

will he touch that wood bark whiskey

or sneak a peek at his neighbor’s wife,

Eleanor Snodbutter.

Angry Fredrick called out,

“Edgar go to sleep and look away.

Katy’s Sepulcher keeps pawing

at your eyes.” He screamed so loud

the crows cawed like Nirvana

caught in a bloodbuzz Ohio breeze.