Dusk Crow

Crow ate his brother, whom i shot
him spiraling down;
a twirl of broken harpy feathers
and twisted corrugated/serrated spine
to be ravaged by his own blood
even before he falls out of the sky

I, I, I... I self inflected
slumped, soundless rest screaming
broken in places that were impossible to break
destroyed in ways that make me desolate
--the light seeping under a darkened door
frost blue air flowing through the locked keyhole
the roaches crawl beneath my bare toes.

Crow, I'll be the one to beg of your name
dusk crow blade to cut the air
You feast on Sky Kings to desecrate my soul
to bite the flesh of the grain laden hand
then pluck chunks from the open eye.

© 1998

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Asdzani Bah & her Pandora Box