scarecrow

the most atrocious thing in the
world begins with a kiss;
on the face of the avowed one.
he's the wheel of it all.

he stroked the fires and makes me kill
all the birds rolling the fields, picking
the seeds
of my scarecrow.

i took it as fate,
i was more scarier then sundown,
the birds called and called
and i died that day.

i licked the fates of plate-glass.
it tasted bloody and bad.

i had a mother and i loved.
i had no time to say what was said.

i believe you when you read this-
it's a truth told
to those;
it's salty