The sky is
a faithful
wilderness garment
hung
above the rain-
haunted mansion
skull of
a world below
golden ladder
reaching down
wheel of dust
rising
blooming in the air
–T. Crunk,
Biblia Pauperum
Accents Publishing
The sky is
a faithful
wilderness garment
hung
above the rain-
haunted mansion
skull of
a world below
golden ladder
reaching down
wheel of dust
rising
blooming in the air
–T. Crunk,
Biblia Pauperum
Accents Publishing
Shuffle and sigh
shuffle and sigh
all god’s children
born to die
rattle and moan
rattle and moan
all god’s children
dead and gone
5. Muse
Late February
and the crow has come
through yet another winter
one good eye
burnt wing
heart still whispering
but as snow again
breaks free
falls to earth
she lifts
from the birch branch
cries twice
vengefully—
I, I
—and wings off
across the stubblefield
vanishing finally
into a poem
about ice
–T. Crunk,
Biblia Pauperum
Accents Publishing
What I had mistaken
for eternity
was only
the long silence
before the next
tick
of the second hand
the elm
outside my window
filling with crows
a clattering
of deaf undertakers
surrounded
on all sides
by the universe
stars
clanking by
on their pulleys
planets
heaving and whistling
and the crows
incessant imperious
calling—
. watchman!
. watchman!
. what is left
. of the night?
–T. Crunk,
Biblia Pauperum
Accents Publishing
Great bird of iron
born of crucible and anvil
first creation
of the forges of Tubalcain
your feathers
are strokes of black lightning
your head a fierce coal
struck from the netherside
of the sun your claws
have clutched the life
from Night’s throat
your names multiply
like seeds of darkness—
Magus Chaldean
gravebird hellwing
almsthief
—ravenous
you devour the earth
grain by grain
your piked tongue
sipped the death-
burnt waters
when you alone
strode
the roofbeam of the ark
gloating
over a world
gone down to anguish
and for this
your voice is rust now
is sand and thorn
your great wisdom
nothing now
but the outraged croakings
of a feeble
secondhand Pharaoh
2. Proverb
One crow sorrow
two crows mirth
three crows death
four crows birth
five crows poor
six crows rich
seven crows curse
eight crows wish
[…]
–T. Crunk,
Biblia Pauperum
Accents Publishing
our days
are rooted in
this is not
the end of it—
the abiding struggle
of clay
with fire
walls of
the potter’s kiln
weeping
tears of brick
–T. Crunk,
Biblia Pauperum (2013)
Accents Publishing
Snow is
one of
god’s dreams
ants another
to escape
the tedium
of oneness
the great
blue heron
pulls night
like a cool curtain
over the huts
the moon
rises in spirals
god sleeps
dreaming water
2.
Not what
dreams may come
but what we
may yet see
in this
flickering light:
a breeze
in the bamboo
and ivy
along the wall
entering
the open window
lifting
a corner of
the page
I am reading
across which
a black ant
makes its
sin sick way
prophesying—
3.
The world ends
and the ants
go on
stitching
in and out
of the earth
whispering psalms
of thanksgiving
their kingdom come
–T. Crunk,
Biblia Pauperum (2013)
Accents Publishing
More from Biblia Pauperum and T. Crunk:
T. Crunk’s first collection of poetry, Living in the Resurrection, was chosen by James Dickey as the 1994 selection in the Yale Series of Younger Poets. He has since published a number of children’s books, as well as several additional collections of poetry and short fiction. He currently lives in Montgomery, Alabama.