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Monday, March 30, 2015

That Damned Crow, Part One of Possibly Many

There's a crow outside who won't close his beak
Flapping open and closed
Sticking out a rude pointed black tongue
Nonstop calling like the bleating of a sheep

First I tried communicating my desires to him in spoken word
With a few "Please stop!"s called out at some level of volume
Though as you can guess this soon degenerated into yelling and screaming
Sometimes not even in words that just had him answering in kind with dark eyes gleaming

I stewed as I sipped a supper sized cuppa
Imagining it to be a delicious kind of crow stew
When I recalled an experiment I read about once
And thought to recreate it to give him something to do
But he just looked at the glass carafe half full of water
Then a sideways sneer at the pile of small pebbles as he kicked them skittering askew

Before I could do anything
He'd hop-flapped up to the porch railing
And knocked over my cuppa
Regaining his former perch in the tree to continue teasing and taunting me
As my coffee stained the snow with its life-blood brown
Precious twice passed Civet Crown
Purchased at twice the price of regular civet beans
Due to the cost of tying the little things up
And shoving their poo down their gullets once again

If once is good
Then twice is better
That's what Grandpa always said
Which is when it hit me
That I had to try one more time
Firing up the computer and browsing away
Until finding what I wanted on Amazon Prime
Pressing that instant order button that gets me in so much trouble
I even paid extra in order to get it pronto on the double

Thus is was that halfway through my replacement cup of oh-so-refined civet poo water
That the mist parted above the small clearing in the trees
Bringing the sound of chopper blades
Raising hackles from flashbacks to M.A.S.H.
With no Radar O'Reilly to warn me preemptively
I simply drew my fleece robe tighter about me
Covering the bits that might get me in trouble
As I dealt with the remote operator via two-way communique
Upon the Hero camera hanging next to the cargo pod
That itself hung slung low below the twin triple booms of the delivery drone
Bearing the FAA markings of N1754AZ
I verbally agreed to vote 'Yes' on the upcoming drone ballot proposal
Signing a matching petition that was prodded out on protruding appendages
Before the cargo container was finally released with a CLANG upon the front porch boards

Reading "This Side Up"
And "Box 1 of 4"
I walked absentmindedly back to the shed door
Ignoring the constant "Caw-Caw-Caw!" cries that crept into my crowded cranium
Straining my head muscles with effort most strainium
Until I found what I wanted
In that old orange handled box-cutter

Sold before 9/11 took the edges off of everything
My thumb thumbed the thumb button
Causing a stay in the Crow's constant crowing
Drawing its beady bitchy eye with a glint of danger
Of sunlight catching the refined edge of a polished blade
Following my footsteps back to the porch
As I defied everything that Mother had ever taught me
Walking quickly with a sharp blade extended in ridiculous fashion
An accident waiting to happen that didn't this time
Until I plunged the pointed protagonist into the thin membrane of adhesive tape
Decorated garishly with Amazon logos endlessly repeating
Making that initial cut right between the A and the M
Drawing the sharpness towards me across my lap
Tempting every fate that ever was with my arteries so squishy full of juice
Revealing a roll of heavy leaded framework that surely baffled that crow to bits

Sure enough
There were visible question marks above his shiny head