Was there carnage in that shot World-leveling God begot? Stubborn Christ born in an abandoned lot. Old cross crows are drubbing in the dust. 5 Cracked heaven the dividing splinter teared, All that riotous confusion heard Before the roaring droplet seared. Old cross crows are drubbing in the dust. Did that staring infant's head 10 Dimly unwrapped above the stiff bed Know what it engendered? Old cross crows are drubbing in the dust. Pack-animals' musty blood Flubbed responsive where they stood, 15 Deep in the passionless mystery. Old cross crows are drubbing in the dust. And was that woman bleeding there As in a tapestry, for the crawling god prepared? All generation in a wound condoned. 20 Old cross crows are drubbing in the dust. Did that penitential infant shriek Climbing heaven's empty cheek Draw ecstatic thunder down? Old cross crows are drubbing in the dust.
From the collection "Unimagined Things"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.