John Kaprielian
Do You Know Me, Crow?

Do you know me, Crow?

Was it you who ate my pears
the very day they were ripe?
I have heard you remember
those who are kind to you;
did you like my pears?
I’ll bet they were sweet.

You are sleek and black and smart
but people would love you more
If you were scarlet or blue, sang
sweet songs instead of caw plaints.

Fellow fruit enthusiast
I bear you no ill will.
You and your friends
don’t even get to be called
a flock...
you are a “murder”

I’ve seen people murder crows
but never
visa versa

Elegy for George

Even for a snail, the loneliness
of being the last must be profound.
No kin; no kind; no one you can
touch with your foot, mingle mucus with,
and think: you are like me.

No Oahu sunsets to admire
from the top of a palm—
only fluorescent-lit lab walls,
the occasional glimpse
of other lonely gastropods.

Why even come out of your shell?
What is the point? How good
could the lettuce be?

Perhaps someday A. apexfulva
will rise again from your frozen cells;
but until then, George, sleep,
and may mollusk paradise
be even better than Hawaii.

<< return to the Table of Contents for New Series #8: Winter 2019, Volume 4 Number 2