social media, 3

​I woke up speaking crow
knowing the condition was
not normal but going with it
resisting nothing as my yoga
teacher would say and so
opened my mouth and let
the beak-words the gargling-
on-marbles-tongue out and
listened as it filled the 
morning to the brim with
charcoal and sharp edges
and went about my day 
proclaiming the invincibility
of numbers the flock of murder
but and beneath the jackleg racket
anxious about the impending night
dark air dulling dark voice
and the owls that would stalk
me shivering branch to 
shivering branch silently 
their spotlight eyes 
unflinching as the moon.
​