Final Poem for Amiri Baraka

Crow Jane died on Baraka’s watch
Must be a necromancer among us
throwing her corpseheart into a flush

of copse Autumn-bloody nobodies
no-bodying in trellised gusts
their small dusks be-holing the view

A gestalt of crow feathers an erasure
wherever bird lands births unbirths
a leaving that is unleaving

or prison poised above the languid stupor
of bloodlake of concrete of an outline a lesson
in banality a shamemask an umbraic expulsion

in catalpa drawing your daddy face
on the phonelines decomposing
a better song beneath the song