mockingbird you
put your
whole self in
smart ass
smart as
take your pick
repeat everything i say
adds a few phrases in my voice
–stop hitting yourself
it offers and
–i know you (are) but what am i
oil slick wings
a song of sanded butter
you grate on my nerves, blackbird
you vex me, jackson–you vex me
i will feed you bits of me
wrapped in freshly baked bread
still steaming from the oven
from my furnace-hot heart
you will shut that beak for good
when you have–
take, eat; this is my body
–been poisoned
that’s
what it’s
all about
Words and Feathers 
“a song of sanded butter” – great. Or grate.
It hope it captured that sand in the lube feeling.
Very much so.
Great twist towards the end. You are always full of surprises. One foot in the everyday, then a sudden step into the metaphysical or surreal, and all very elegantly and effortlessly. Beautiful poem!
Thank you so much. I think that sudden step into the surreal is where my brain usually goes. Not always a good thing.
I understand…
Sanded butter struck me right on my bone. You capture textures so well. Great stuff, Crow man.
Thanks, Bones. How’s it rattling?
Like a rattle snake, my friend… life has been full of venom lately, but I do believe I’ve got the serum to rise again.
You just need someone to suck out that poison.
Is it morning…….
Time to smell
the coffee or what
ever else you decide
that needs to be burnt