Friends on the Wire

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My friends were like crows
meeting in murders of five
walking the splintered boards
hiking the macadam roads
searching for wine and girls.

My friends were like crows
black as they were brown
loud, squawking sounds
warning us of the harm
creating troubled souls.

My friends were like crows
munching at all-night diners
bearding the checks
getting high on the salty air
filling our lungs with marijuana smoke.

My friends were like crows
falling from the sky
claws clutching hearts
floundering with broken wings
worn-out from the storms.

My friends were like crows
leaving each other behind
atop a solitary telephone wire
life oozing out of us
like the white-droppings that hit the ground.

For more on friendships, read my blog, The Importance of Bro Time.

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