If one may argue that difficulties in life serve as fodder for artistic inspiration, then count us in. While some may struggle with relationships or the feeling of growing up, we stress over the invasion of black crows on campus. Their incessant cawing, ominous gathering and affinity for “painting” our cars on a nightly basis is bringing us to our breaking point.
In trying to find beauty in adversity, light in darkness and hope in despair, we submit this venting piece of poetry:

The Crow
Once upon a night in Marchetti, in the kitchen, cooking spaghetti
Delaying the books that give me a bore,
While I cooked, craving eating, outside my window there was a meeting
Of some visitors from the eastern shore
Marking white drops on my car door
Only this, and nothing more

The next day while trying to drive, it was useless using my eyes
For my windshield was covered with poop galore
Embarrassed whilst driving toward Schnucks, my car got oh so many looks
Yes, indeed, a car wash was in store
I must remove the poop from my car doors
Only this, and nothing more

Scrubbing for hours, relentless cleaning,
finally my car was oh so gleaming,
parking at evening, ready for nighttime dreaming,
suddenly I was cooled to the core
I heard a squawk, and saw it drop,
Causing my fragile heart to stop – all this pooping, and what for?

They are persistent like a cold sore
Please leave us alone crows, and nothing more

–Ian Hackett, junior, College of Arts and Sciences and Michael Putnam, senior, College of Arts and Sciences