we eat the dead.

we've got a whole murder of crows over here.
a flying pack of big black attackers.
a swarming storm of sullen spirits,
scavenging and scowling and squawking,
like a cloud of unkindness.
a caw-cawing clutch of coal-colored cadaver-crackers
resting and relaxing between meals
in the trees surrounding the Fortress.
that's that 'tower of london'-type jauns, y'all.
the royal ravens who represent the righteous reign an' that.
we GOT they.
just as butt-nasty in their eating habits as vultures,
just as loud as geese,
just as nosy and mean-spirited as blue jays,
but somehow better than all the other other ones.
black birds, b!tches.
my duders, i really like our ebon-feathered friendlies,
my numero uno ne'er-do-well companions.
spirits and memories and ghostly getters all in one.
y'know what i like most about 'em?
they eat up on eyeballs first thing first.
crows know that skulls with eyes are totally gaytarded,
and remedy that situation with the most expeditious quickness.
i can totally hang out with that.
i mean it,
although i'm glad it's them snacking on see-balls,
and not us.
nevermore, neighbors,
for the world's worst ninjas.
just sayin', kids-
they're all in black,
but waaaay too loud and hard,
and that makes hiding pretty flippin' difficult.
word up.
***********
thor's day has come and gone again.
back to work,
and busy as a mutha-b!tch, bro.
that's good.
we get live with it,
low, middle, and high with it.
full-spectrum business,
and full-throttle fast-ahead flavor, too.
the days go by too quickly,
the nights are over too soon,
and in between,
there's a little bit of dinner time,
and that's all.
the overlapping spheres of influence
are linked together,
and making bubble-houses of temporal disruption.
invisible slime,
in the dark;
never quiet, never soft.....