With The Pity Of Ravens

When she

reveals her-

self in all of

her sad

and naked

glory, it's

difficult to

resist suck-

ing at the

swollen teat

of Misery

the first

taste of

a wretched

intimacy

as disillusion-

ment surges,

hardening

in the face

of pale dawn

an incidental

voyeur slipping

past the blind

venetians

who ask if

they should

even care

whether

the sun is

rising or

setting

while poverty

dark-winged

is closing in

and outside

the window

of a squalid

bedroom

a ravening

wind cries

with the pity

of ravens.

--Jack T. Marlowe