Choosing a Mate

A crow hunts a wife.
He looks in at the old cemetery.
Some girl crows are laughing,
perched on the tombstones there.
He looks at the garbage dump.
Some girl crows are eating there,
using their seductive beaks
to separate rotten meat from blonde doll hair.
He surveys a fast food dumpster from the air.
Some girl crows are shopping and croaking there,
keeping each other girl company just fine.
The crow flies away eating air.
Hard into nothingness of sky.
The world is so deep in loveliness
it is just impossible.

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