Hungry Crow Of Truth

Hungry Crow Of Truth
© Surazeus
2026 04 12

Erased by laughter of the waterfall, 
I wander to work at the grocery store 
where I stock shelves with cans of vegetables, 
then climb in dead oak tree by the highway 
and pretend I am the hungry crow of truth 
who solves math riddles of the eglantine. 

From my perch in the city park I see 
eight hippies sit in circle on the grass, 
wearing headbands with flowers in their hair, 
who sing hymn Where Have All the Flowers Gone 
with mercurial voices of revolution 
while bearded Jesus strums guitar of truth. 

While riding El Camino on glass highway 
across Mojave Desert in July, 
I hear that god Apollo and his friends 
have landed on bright mirror of the moon 
to visit God and his exotic cat 
who shows them how to run the universe. 

Extreme perfection gained by stealing rain 
inspires my heart to photograph the face 
that God wears as he plays the human race 
based on experience of the pioneers 
who earn their privilege through suffering 
that they endure while stealing pristine land. 

Old bearded preacher wearing long black cloak 
declares that God is energy of light 
that animates each atom through the void 
so everything we do by force of fate 
expresses will of God in how we act, 
but I insist I live through my own will. 

Potential portrait, that depicts my face 
as noble prototype of providence, 
hangs on museum wall of reverence 
that proves all my accomplishments of faith 
place me on pinnacle of social games 
as prominent goon of society. 

Revenue retrieved from fake bank accounts 
solidifies my power over truth 
when I employ strategic feints of faith 
sufficient to enhance my social clout 
enough that I play grand symbolic role 
as clown crucified by bureaucracy. 

Subjective standards of state moral laws 
require conditions supportive of faith 
taxed by grim priests with sharpened scythes of hope 
who sell synthetic prayers of rectitude 
contrived by honest therapist of hope 
who forges keys of wisdom from despair.