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Image for the poem Hypochondriac Crow

Hypochondriac Crow

I heard knocking at rapture's door
on heaven's interstate, Route 64,
near the old ballpark, fit for angels
with God and his catcher's mitt
and a hypochondriac crow,
blowing me a kiss
rounding for home base
on the seventh-inning stretch,
with a mysterious cuttlebone
that resemble a ball bat
on heaven's interstate, Route 64,
listening to Dinah Shore on the radio.
"See the USA in a Chevrolet".
Written by adagio
Published
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