Crowed

Michael Magee opens Crowed with a coffee-spill Rorschach crow, its bill dripping honey and mayhem. These poems travel across ethereal borders and find a man in honey who finds his way home from the pub after too many hours, who finds rain is no sorrow. And too, there is the mayhem of devastating fires, a man with a hose, where every road is a dead end, or the woman in "Bench Warrant" who is "rising on her own / after last night's collapse / the wind gone out of her." Crowed's shiny objects ...