What Happens When The Crows Return?

These clothes only belong to me
because consumerism told someone else to
throw them away,
strung up on my limbs of wilted grass,
browned by the memory
that has held us here,
like this.
The memory that has held us here,
dangling from the rosaries
on one another’s necks,
framed by glass beads 
of forest green
and self-induced irony�"
We are the martyrs for the beauty that never was,
We stay in place and watch with 
stitched eyes
embellished with golden thread
as the selfishly, selectively starved birds pick us apart
straw
by
straw�"
we’re living in cross-hatched fields 
of corn embellished with gold,
that are only noticed
when crop circles appear ‘out of nowhere,’
so everyone can continue living
with their fear of the unknown,
so everyone can continue believing that
‘nothing gold can stay.’ 
The RAPTURE! 2012! THE APOCALYPSE! WORLD WAR 3!
All these things weak people predicted
because they wanted an escape plan,
What about the unexplained earthquakes?
What about the raising death toll and the Chinese baby girls in garbage cans?
What about the population that is growing quicker
than the steroid-infused fruits and vegetables
in these socialist fields we find ourselves in?
What about the fact that we too, are just crops up for sale,
up for consumption and purchase�"
We go to the highest bidder.

What happens when the crows return? 

You only belong to me
because someone else threw you away;
your ‘bang’ was too low for your ‘buck,’
and I tufted the hay around your neck,
straightened your straw hat
that was sliding off in a dangerously cliche fashion,
I restitched your smile sewn 
with black thread,
to reassure us both that 
‘nothing gold can stay.’ 

Our crosshatch faces of cotton and dried grass,
facing one another across unloved fields 
of over-nourished plants,
We had a silent agreement
that not even we knew we wanted,
We had a silent agreement
that we hid in whispers 
in the centers
of raindrops
strung along the webs of our fingers
like glass beads,
but more fragile,
and less beautiful�"
“I’ll keep the crows away,
so you never have to think of death again.”

We are not as weak as them,
we do not need an anticipated route of exit�"
We are planted right here,
strung along
like glass beads,
but more fragile,
and less beautiful�"
If you are not safe,
I am not safe:
“I’ll keep the crows away,
I’ll keep the crows away.”

Author's Note

unfinished

Reviews

[@zeewhykay]

This is just wow.. I mean, I'm not usually surpassed by a poem, but all the connections I can make through your witty word choice... it just surpasses my ability to grasp everything at once. I will definitely reread because I really dig your style !
"and restitched your smile sewn
with black thread "

Everything from that point on hits me bullseye in the heart. You have talent.

[ScaryTrees]

well unfinished you say but
nice job again (second piece i read :P)
really striking imagery
the second to last stanza really worked for me

great job

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

Wow. This one completely blew my mind. The bond of trust here is what we all dream about. I was touched by your words. This is very special...indeed.
Bravo.