RAVENS
Ashok Niyogi
The first time I went to California,
I was so overawed,
I thought there were no crows!
Today in the morning, three ravens came to visit by
And discuss social inequalities they have with the geese.
They thought it would be fruitful to talk to a like-minded person.
So they came to pontificate on various philosophies.
They perched on the chimney-top,
Black against a backdrop of white,
Re-arranged their feathers,
And were ready to talk.
In democratic California they are a vote bank.
On Election Day, over their feathers
They drape the red and the blue.
We promised to grant them equal status
With birds of different hue,
Even hummingbirds,
Who partake only of nectar.
But we will have to address their demands.
In civilized society their hunt for rodents is taboo.
So they invade garbage bins in suburbia
To drink soured milk from cartons past expiry dates.
The food is scarce and hardly gourmet.
Soon they will invade windows of kitchens
To peck with black beaks into refrigerators and larders.
As a human I cannot approve of these intrusions,
But then I quite understand their compulsions.
The only way is to talk to them of Zimbabwe,
Of equations of cruelty reversed in time.
They furrow their brows and look at my map.
But the Atlantic is a big gap.
Blank eye-sockets stare back at their bird-eyes.
Who will they find similarities to vent their anger upon?
Where are the geese?
Anger and hunger mixed together is potent.
It can cross oceans
To mix and parley with those
That are not hungry and angry.
Discussions such as these are always inconclusive.
So, we will sit in the park in the afternoon
And read the Daily Mercury.
Stories of rape and murder and incest and kidnap
Will contribute to a good afternoon nap.
Old men, like the ravens and me,
Must, after all, wear their mittens.
Sleep will assuage their anger and hunger.
In any case I have promised to be back
With tomorrow’s Mercury
To talk to their off-spring with red throats
And baby beaks.
For ravens are my friends.
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