Robert P Arthur Poems

Butcher Bird

Yer can tell if you've ever strolled into a Butcher bird's yard.
Grasshoppers and mice, and small birds'r crucified, headless, on hawthorn twigs… bushes and briars.
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Where Do the Crabs Go?


Where do the crabs go
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1950, Cape Charles, Virginia


The night my mother left
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Empire


At nightfall
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The Poetess of Blue Streak Grill


All salads here are served
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Shadows fall into the eyes
Of animals: motile underbranches
Of night, having breath.
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One grows to love the smell of horses
and urine-soaked hay

With the Chesapeake behind it…dung in the stables
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At night I dream
of hardening shells
where shallows
drop
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