Photography © Janet Ruth

 

COVID CENTO // CO[R]VID C[U]ENTO

—As an ornithologist, every morning that I woke to an on-line New York Times summary headline about Covid-19 over the last five years, I thought “Corvid,” which is a group of birds including crows, ravens, jays, magpies, rooks, choughs, etc. and so I went in search of other poets’ stories about corvids.

IRRATIONAL CO[R]VID FEARS
          I had heard / all about magpies, how they /
          snooped and meddled / in the affairs of others. (Philip Levine)

CO[R]VID SWEEPSTAKES
          Thousands / of crows close enough for me to reach out
          with the tip of my foot / & touch their beaks. I am consumed with
                    fear /
          . . . the crow dream. . . / I am a crow among crows. (Yaccaira
                    Salvatierra)

CO[R]VID HOPE OVER FEAR
          “Hope” is the thing with feathers— / that perches in the soul— /
          and sings the tune without the words— / and never stops—
                    at all—
          (Emily Dickinson)

KIDS, CO[R]VID AND DELTA
          When he was young he flew / with a gang of jackdaws /
          who had empty hearts / and huge appetites. (Phil Roberts)

RED-AMERICA’S CO[R]VID PROBLEM
          That fool crow, . . . understands the center of the world as greasy
          strips of fat. . . . doesn’t have to say that the earth has turned
                    scarlet. . .
          after centuries of heartbreak. (Joy Harjo)

MORE CO[R]VID MYSTERIES
          Swarthy, dapper, bright-eyed, immaculate, / like coal carved fresh
          from a mysterious mine, / he struts the field, dress-suited, a
                    malign /
          diplomat from an ancient consulate. (Kelsey Thornton)

CO[R]VID AND THE DELTA VARIANT
          Crow plays piano where it sweeps voices of blues, / as musical
                    notes
          into piles— . . . it stretches long notes across the keys, . . . crow
                    cries
          as it strikes their bluest of blue notes. (Diane Sahms)

BREAKTHROUGH CO[R]VID, IN PERSPECTIVE
          Crow shows another point / of view, a more-than-human angle /
          from which to learn air / and invisible, electric currents. (Cornelia
                    Hoogland)

A CO[R]VID UPDATE
          Every morning, so far, I’m alive and now, / the crows break off
          from the rest of the darkness / and burst up into the sky.
                    (Mary Oliver)

THE CO[R]VID TESTING PROBLEM
          The rookery rocks with those racking coughs; / see them self-
                    isolate up in the trees. /
          Jet-beaded eyes and their plague doctor beak; / Waiting, waiting
                    for that ultimate wheeze.
          (Gray Lightfoot)

CO[R]VID GETS REDDER
          Crow / walking out / the sacred temple of ribs / in a dance of
                    leaving /
          the red tracks of scarce and private gods. (Linda Hogan)

CO[R]VID IS IN RETREAT
          The crows puff their feathers and cry / between me and the sun, /
          and I should go now. / They know me for what I am.
                    (Mary Oliver)

MY SEARCH FOR A CO[R]VID TEST
          The raven perches, tilts his head, / ponders with corvid brain /
          the puzzles of existence, / or at least the test before him—
          a piece of meat / dangling from a string. (Janet Ruth)

THE CO[R]VID FABLE
          And in the end of all / crows will come back and sing the funeral.
          (Thomas Merton)

CO[R]VID CASES KEEP FALLING
          I hadn’t seen a jay / in years—I’d almost forgotten they existed. /
          Such obvious, quarrelsome, vivid birds / that turn the air
          around them crystalline. (Stanley Plumly)

CO[R]VID GETS EVEN REDDER
          He gives her food and the saliva / of his red mouth, draws her
          black feathers,
          sweet / as shining grass across his bill. (Gillian Clarke)

CO[R]VID AND AGE
          It’s the last day of the old raven. / His turn has come and soon a
                    pall /
          of darkness will cover him up. (Desanka Maksimović)

CO[R]VID THANKSGIVING, ROUND 2
          I think for my Thanksgiving feast / I need to cook that horrid
                    beast, /
          and then my Raven, furthermore, / will be a Raven nevermore.
          (Roy E. Peterson)

THE LATEST CO[R]VID SURGE
          The jay’s cry’s / like metal among the elms— / canned
                    radio-resonances, /
          racketing into arch on arch, / spanking the panes of silence down.
          (Peter Kane Dufault)

CO[R]VID TREATMENTS ON THE WAY
          a crow-blast, one hundred farmers with one hundred shotguns /
          jerking off the sky with a giant penis of hate / . . . but they ran out
                    of shells
          before they ran out of crows / and the crows came back. (Charles
          Bukowski)

MAKING SENSE OF CO[R]VID CHANGES
          Let it blow you apart till your feathers fly off and / you look like
                    hell. /
          Then abandon yourself. / The wind is not your enemy.
                    (Phyllis Wheatley)

A CO[R]VID POLL
          “Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure
                    no craven,
          ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the
                    Nightly shore—
          tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
          Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.” (Edgar Allan Poe)

ZERO CO[R]VID IN CHINA
          My thoughts of poetry are like the magpie at night,
          circling three times, unable to settle. (Li Qingzhao)

RED CO[R]VID, AN UPDATE
          Crows / like black flowers on the snow. / . . . they have seen /
          some streak of death on the dark ice. / They gather around it
                    and consume
          everything, the strings / and the red music of that nameless body.
          (Mary Oliver)

THE LATEST CO[R]VID SURGE
          Dark laughter / floods the riverbank / a roost of crows.
                    (Janet Ruth)

CO[R]VID AND THE “VERY LIBERAL”
          A crow flew into the tree outside my window. / It was not
                    Ted Hughes’s crow,
          or Galway’s crow. / Or Frost’s, Pasternak’s, or Lorca’s crow. / . . .
                    This was just
          a crow. / That never fit in anywhere in its life. (Raymond Carver)

REDUCING CO[R]VID’S TOLL
          Black wings gathering in the deserted / parking lot below the
          Assembly of God. /
          Ravens at play in the desolate fields / of the lord. (Dorianne Laux)

A NEW CO[R]VID MYSTERY
          Magpie on a bough / tipped his head and said, /
          “Here in the mind, brother / turquoise blue.” (Gary Snyder)

CO[R]VID IN THE NORTHEAST
          I went . . to my retreat in Maine because I had seen ravens
          there behaving in what seemed to me an irrational way,
          and I wanted to find out why. (Bernd Heinrich)

COPING WITH “ZERO CO[R]VID”
          In a barren springtime field / stands a woman dressed in black /
          crying her sisters’ names / like a bird in the empty sky.
          (Victoria Amelina)

CO[R]VID AND RACE
          I watched a flock of crows / fly by, / counted forty-two
                    black souls,
          then up to sixty-five, / maybe more. /. . . a congregation I refused
          to call a murder / because profiling ain’t what I do.
                    (J. Drew Lanham)

THE LATEST CO[R]VID SURGE
          His palace is of skulls. . . his throne is the scaffold of bones. . .
          his robe is the black of the last blood. (Ted Hughes)

OUR LATEST CO[R]VID POLL
          Statuesque, raven-tressed, a goddess of the night / a secret
          incantation, candle burning blue. / We’ll consult the spirits,
          maybe they’ll know what to do. (The Grateful Dead, John Barlow)

CO[R]VID’S TOLL ON NATIVE AMERICANS
          Crow rides a pale horse / into a crowded powwow /
          but none of the Indian panic. / Damn, says Crow, I guess /
          they already live near the end of the world. (Sherman Alexie)

CO[R]VID BOOSTERS
          Vision becomes / a welcome to guests of crows in new /
          dimensions who themselves become / not only depth and horizon
          in a circus / of wings but old vision’s startling visitors.
                    (Pattiann Rogers)

UNNECESSARY CO[R]VID DEATHS
          Like charred pears / a thousand rooks break from the bough /
          fall to puddles, cast their parched cares / into the eyes
          of the melted snow. (Boris Pasternak)

CHINA’S NEW CO[R]VID CHAPTER
          When crows fly over the villages / panic erupts like a flash flood /
          soon after, as Nanmusa has prophesied / a plague spreads
                    along the valley /
          some life soon evaporated. (Gao Qiongxian)

A BETTER CO[R]VID WINTER
          The way a crow / shook down on me /
          the dust of snow / from a hemlock tree. (Robert Frost)

AN UNDERUSED CO[R]VID TREATMENT
          Once I said to a scarecrow, “You must be tired of standing in this /
                    lonely field.” /
          And he said, “The joy of scaring is a deep and lasting one, and I /
                    never tire of it.”
          (Kahlil Gibran)

THE DEBATE OVER CO[R]VID’S ORIGIN
          A band of black, belated crows arrive from lands unknown.
          (Emily Pauline Johnson)

THE LONG SHADOW OF CO[R]VID SCHOOL CLOSURES
          Feathered dark in thought, I stalk like a rook, /
          brooding as the winter night comes on. (Sylvia Plath)

A POSITIVE CO[R]VID MILESTONE
          There’s a crow flying / black and ragged / tree to tree /
          he’s black as the highway leading me. (Joni Mitchel)

THE CO[R]VID ORIGIN DEBATE
          One story has it we flew in here / on the backs of birds. Ravens
                    to be exact. /
          They still don’t hold us in high regard, / . . .they seem to know /
          we won’t last. (Tom Crawford)

THE SIDE EFFECTS OF CO[R]VID VACCINES
          “By heaven, I would most gladly have forgotten it. / Thou
                    saidst—O,
          it comes o’er my memory / as doth the raven o’er the infectious
                    house,
          boding to all—he had my handkerchief.” (William Shakespeare)

TWO CO[R]VID THEORIES
          I gave much credence to stragglers, / overrated the composure of
                    blackbirds /
          and the folklore of magpies. (Seamus Heaney)

WHAT CO[R]VID TAUGHT US
          Magpie is the tarot card. (Sian Mackay)

~~~

CREDITS – This cento is a patchwork of New York Times summary headlines matched with corvid-related pieces by the following authors, “poems/lyrics/plays/books”

Philip Levine, “Magpiety”
Yaccaira Salvatierra, “A Crow Among Crows”
Emily Dickinson, “314”
Phil Roberts, “A Gang of Jackdaws”
Joy Harjo, “My House is the Red Earth”
Kelsey Thornton, “The Crow”
Diane Sahms, “Crow in Variations”
Cornelia Hoogland, “Her Familiar”
Mary Oliver, “Landscape”
Gray Lightfoot, “Counting Crows in a Time of Plague (Corvid 19)”
Linda Hogan, “Crow Law”
Mary Oliver, “Entering the Kingdom”
Janet Ruth, “Raven Heart”
Thomas Merton, “Fable for a War”
Stanley Plumly, “Still Missing the Jays”
Gillian Clarke, “Choughs”
Note: Cornish Choughs are the only corvids with red bills and legs
Desanka Maksimović, “Death of a Raven”
Roy E. Peterson, “My Raven”
Peter Kane Dufault, “The Jay’s Cry”
Charles Bukowski, “The Weather is Hot on the Back of My Watch”
Phyllis Wheatley, “Raven, Teach Me to Ride the Winds of Change”
Edgar Allan Poe, “The Raven”
Li Qingzhao (1084–1151), translated by Wendy Chen, fragment
Mary Oliver, “Crows”
Janet Ruth, untitled haiku
Raymond Carver, “My Crow”
Dorianne Laux, “The Ravens of Denali”
Gary Snyder, “Magpie’s Song”
Bernd Heinrich, Raven in Winter
Victoria Amelina, “Poem About a Crow”
          Note: V Amelina was a Ukrainian writer, killed in a Russian missile strike.
J. Drew Lanham, “No Murder of Crows”
Ted Hughes, “King of Carrion”
The Grateful Dead, John Barlow, “I Need a Miracle”
Sherman Alexie, “Crow Testament”
Pattiann Rogers, “This Little Glade, Remember”
Boris Pasternak, “February”
Gao Qiongxian, translated by Ming Di, “Prophet”
Robert Frost, “Dust of Snow”
Kahlil Gibran, “The Scarecrow”
Emily Pauline Johnson, “The Flight of the Crows”
Sylvia Plath, “Winter Landscape with Rooks”
Joni Mitchell, “Black Crow”
Tom Crawford, “Raven”
William Shakespeare, Othello, Act IV, Scene 1, Othello to Iago
Seamus Heaney, “Drifting Off”
Sian Mackay, “Magpie”

 

Janet Ruth is a New Mexico ornithologist and poet. Her writing focuses on connections to the natural world. She has recent poems in Tiny Seed Literary Journal, The Nature of Our Times, Ekphrastic Review, and anthologies including New Mexico Poetry Anthology 2023. Her sonnet, “A World That Shimmers,” won the inaugural True Concord Poetry Contest, was set to music by the 2023 winner of the Emerging Composer Contest and performed by True Concord Voices and Orchestra in Tucson, October 2023. Her book, Feathered Dreams: celebrating birds in poems, stories & images was a Finalist for the 2018 NM/AZ Book Awards.

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