Morning crows

Some folks
aim a little
lower than they should
to settle for
a thing that isn't bad,
but neither good.
One hopes
to find a thing
that's new or off the hook
Something they have read about
in children's storybooks
how heros are created from
the under-rated freaks
that live inside humility
or so I hear it speak
Of 'course I don't mean literally
a voice inside my pen
it's my imagination
so put down the DSM
No psychosis yet, says he
Ha ha ha ha pour vous
In later-phase insanity
the joke becomes on you
("you" with "vous"
aint that a cheat
translation rhyming words)
Oh well say he and I and we
this thing is for the birds
and so with hectic throw
I'll give it lunge toward the crows
they will make a cawing sound
that makes you blood run chill
My father ran with pots in hand
"I''ll scare them, yes I will"
not so, not so, so feeble was
the plan with pan and pot.
I laugh without control when I
just see it in my thoughts
I wasn't there, but heard the thing
upon the break of day
The story told with timing
like comedians would say
So when I hear the caw
of murder birds in morning tree
My old man with pot and pan
jumps out from memory
and breaks into my conscious thought
to provoke a loud gaffaw!
And in this way inside today
for now, I'll miss Papa.....