the crows
are screaming
in this half
empty lowe’s
parking lot as
the sun bakes
a certain sort
of dessicated
heartthistle
across the
shimmering
skyline of
wavering wonder

halfway between
dallas and fort worth
where both meccas
of concrete austerity
may be mirages in
a sea of asphalt
a fool ponders
the hellacious squawking
of a potential murder
longing to blow away
flying with the rest
of the trash as it
races toward the next
inescapable tangle