Try a little harder to be happy

I have dreamed of
the street melting tar
and all the life lived
walking the blue black
the sun hazy behind
pollution, purple ma bey
and the feet move regardless
lost in the middle of now and
the geologic time of the road
I a paused by 3 crows
tearing apart a pidgin
feathers floating in the breeze,
they are proud and guilt
ridden by their desire
I feel hot with the shame
the living always feel
I continue walking and
the tar sticks to me
black iridescences like
crow wings, I am
walking over the dead and
now I feel it in my feet the long
shadow the falls on pigeons
and crows and men