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Another time, a raven, this one with a comb-over and an ugly tie with no cartoon characters on it told me I was waging a long and bloody war on my bladder
"I wasn't aware I was doing that" I replied absently; distracted by trying to stare at the tip of my nose as to draw my steely grey irises together like they had suddenly become magnetized
"Yes you are" he reasserted
Vaseline began to creep through cracks in the tiles, making the floor quite slippery ...

A raven told me that all licorice was poison
Except the blue kind which was actually nylon rope
And that I should stop eating it because I was getting unsightly strands of bright blue nylon stuck in between my teeth
I did not comply
I don't listen to ravens anymore since that last time when a pale pink raven with long legs and a curvy neck told me to pleasure him between frantic bites of shrimp from the middle of a shallow pond
I'm not welcome back at the zoo ...