Today's poem is by Chad Davidson
huddling between telephone wires
is not a metaphor. Depravity is exquisite
in the one
huddling between the search
for carrion and the carrion it last remembers,
reminding the others
of carrion: black matted
feathers, eyes falling inward. I want to know
if crows bleed
from their eyes during coition,
how to tell the difference between crow and raven.
Those crows see
our Jupiter, must think it mindless
how we send our probes surfaceward. Send them away,
call them back.
Here are two crows guarding
my sweet basil, watching wasps orbit the one tomato
These two crows are exquisite.
They want me to forget about the dumbells hovering
above my head,
to forget about planets.
Two crows call me back from this unpremeditated
to tell me everything I see
is real save the dark carrion they wait for.
They wait for me
to make a move heavenward
toward them. The sun beats their eyes into mercury.
is exquisite. Three crows
reduced to one. One crow to two. One spring
the children in the piazza yelled,
Vengono i corvi! The crows are coming. This is how
we learn to love the dark.
Copyright © 2003 Chad Davidson All rights reserved
from Consolation Miracle
Southern Illinois University Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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