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A Murder

In the heart of suburbia
The crows cluster ‘round their meal
Tonight--a flattened slab of skunk
Tomorrow--who’s to say?
Like a band of merry men
They devour their feast, chattering brightly
And, with abundant laughter,
Eat the dead like simple bread
Cackling amongst themselves all the while
And, when dinner ends,
Idly they sit, fat and happy
Lazily pondering--
But contemplating only the profundity of the next meal





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