Ellen McGrath Smith

E l l e n   M c G r a t h   S m i t h

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April Fools Poem

Just saw an adult crow wheeling in the air with two smaller ones

            following its arcs,

but I'm not going to get sentimental about it. Went to do my taxes

            in the suburbs, saw an American flag

dressed as a middle-aged woman bent over the dirt near a bush

            in her yard, but I'm not getting strident

here, no I am not. When it thunderstormed Friday, the night sky

            broke up like some supershocked danceclub,

the smell in the air made me think I had pica, so hungry I was

            for some mud on my tongue, but I'll steer clear of

pastoral just as I did of that fawn on Route 8

            with begonia-stem legs and a giggle of white

on its sides.