They stand and gawp
The twits in twos
Beaks sharp &
Ready to bash in the brains
Of mice and lesser men
Their necks rotate on axles
The big eyes stare you down
As they sit up in churches,
In the lofts of banks
And other high up places
Clenching the beams
Curled claws that might
Come through letterboxes
And unhook the latch from the door
If they do not want you
To know they are there
You will not know
But listen for the sound of the wings
When they beat
You know something is up
Above and will be coming down.