The seagull screamed like an angry old lady
In a pink terry cloth jumpsuit and nappy braids
Chrystal blues eyes sharper than 1929
Jowls flapping like the Chicago politicians she hated
The creatures of the night
Fresh-faced and well-rested
Under the trees talking to God
Under the trees talking to Louis
Under the trees talking to no one
Seagulls barrel roll attack lunch remnants
Like fighter pilots from another time
French Fries not French men the targets
One of the seagulls screamed like an angry old lady
Poems and Stuff 