Chapter from CROW, after TED HUGHES (or am I?)

Crow Sparks Drum atop Mt. Fury of Heart-Attack

Hitherward stretched out beneath Sun’s hartshorn 
Crow whistles from a sorceress’ horn
Over the bearing edge like a hock or pledge 
In pawn of some debt; so hitherward stretched,

Stretched out, over the bearing ruff of his Bodh-
ran’s batterhead.
Crow staunchly stomachs the red ruck 
Of a ruddock still warbling. Still warbling like

A small European Thrush pledging allegiance 
And so pleading to be spit, as Jonah 
Himself, out towards the far-out wrinkles

Of the valley’s leghorn dock

Like a taximeter or stopwatch. Not 
Skipping a clonic groan or, kah-kah, beat

From drum

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