Commute to a birthday party

by Ani Bachan

Three crows gather dead center on the road

Scatter for cars, then return in some strange ritual

Behind the wheel I call out in their language

HONK!

Their backs spill crude as oil on the sky

Speckling the air for my noisy interruption

In the mirror I watch them gather again, unfazed.

I imagine them chipping and cawing crow-gossip

Have you seen the new baby?

Good lord, she has her father’s beak.

They carry on with this ritual, parting and

Unparting in allowance of the infinite squall

Of gasoline and engine, which wafts still some

Fifty rituals ahead in a bedroom

At the center of a steel town

New life is catching and between

Blooming cries we hear the concrete sounds:

Ambulance whines, retriever howls,

City bus collects the night shift and relieves the 9-5

Wringing and hanging their sigh and sputter

Blub and babble, hum and haw, sing

            Baby,      Have you seen the new baby? Have you seen the new baby?

BIO: Ani Bachan is a Toronto-based writer. She has been previously published in The Quarter(ly), Bear Paw Arts Journal, Gyroscope Review, and others.