"This is not a book to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force." - Dorothy Parker


High in the Queen Palm, bowered

Within the long bearded fronds,

She lowers her glistening head

To him and waits, but he's

Busy, on purpose or not,

With blunt beak rifling

Through the tags of old fronds.

Earnestly, she sidles closer to him

Her neck curved deliciously,

Waiting for his attentions.

But still he's busy doing

A crow's relentless work

And won't be hurried

And she doesn't hurry him

But her charms are inevitable.

So he turns, touches her,

Strokes her gleaming neck feathers,

Goes further and teases

The delicate skin underneath.

She bows lower and sighs,

As if she could, and then shivers

With this overflowing

Of earthly delight.

Rochelle Cocco