‘As the crow flies

ridin’ trains with magpies

birds jealous, know why?

just because my view’s high.

Pick a pail o’ maggot dust

where to spread? here, I trust

The dirt is wet, I’m dryin’ out

my sight, my soul is cryin’ out

sell me hope, skip the rope

scrub my sins with lawdy’s soap

Wait now, are ya there?

Insane, gotcha where?

Leave me blind in the light,

write until I get it right

with the wind

Flee with the wind, my friend.

- El Cuad 2012

Artwork by Rui Ricardo http://www.rui-ricardo.com/