The crows caw

crow

Morning crows machine gun caw across skyline trenches,
and the Sun flares up to interrupt.

Unseen messages skim rooftops seeking servers.
Insomniacs teeter on the cliff edge of day.

Caffeine irritates the irritable,
what isn’t required is expelled and flushed,
the first waste of the day gone before a foot falls on the street.

An obituary of last nights happenings is broadcast,
big brother speaks the invited imposter smiles from the wall.

All these things repeated,
and you wonder why your eyes seem dead.

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