THE CROW
australia populates itself with the darkness/ of
the august born crow/ aaah-aah-aahaah the last
note is drawn out & dropping in pitch/ as gold
bright eyes scan pastoral topography/ for secret
industry pickings far on the road to death/ in
warmer months nomadic flocks of adolescents
are soaring over the jarrah & karri/ in western
australian craft shops/ are feeding on army grubs
& grasshoppers or spilt grain in fields of stubble/
the culture of crows is innocent/ a murder of birds
on the air currents/ sixty two percent dying before
they are one year old/ wings float to earth like
coal dust or ash/ new youngsters are crashed out
beneath trees/ & land becomes brighter shining
out from their bones/ black crows fly on the cold
front/ have brought the laughter of inland drought
& now they bring rain/ shake off water droplets
from their shiny feathers like it tickles/ ruined land
is plummeted with wet drops/ spheres that crash
at the mud's dry edge leaving rings/ black crows
swoop down/ laugh like a tribe/ & wind propelled
glide along the steel grey rivers of albany/ little
claws drag the water's surface like hooks | 
