Crossroad

Jimmy coasts up

to the crossroad.

A crow sits atop

the sign.

Left road goes

to Armageddon,

right goes to

the newly

constructed

national prison.

Straight ahead

the eastern sky

is blackening,.

nightfall beckoning,

with the pink

and yellow glow

of a slot machine

palace where

the house wins

ninety nine times

out of a hundred.

Crow dances left,

bobs right,

flips around

and thrusts his beak

towards the gleam

on the horizon.

Jimmy figures

that his odds

are better at the slots

and eases forward

across the intersection.

As he passes,

the crow chuckles,

squirts a crap,

and flies off

to a cozy nest

where the western

sun is reddening

into night.