CROW TYRANNOSAURUS BY TED HUGHES
You can read the critical analysis of the poem here.
Creation quaked voices–
It was a cortege
Of mourning and lament
Crow could hear and he looked around fearfully.
The swift’s body fled past
And their anguish, all it had eaten.
The cat’s body writhed
Of incoming death-struggles, sorrow on sorrow.
And the dog was a bulging filterbag
Of all the deaths it had gulped for flesh and the bones.
It could not digest their screeching finales.
Its shapeless cry was a blort of all these voices.
Even man he was a walking
His brain incinerating their outcry.
Crow thought “Alas
Alas ought I
to stop eating
And try to become the light?”
But his eye saw a grub. And his head, trapsprung, stabbed.
And he listened
And he heard
Grubs grubs He stabbed he stabbed
Weeping he walked and stabbed
Thus came the eye’s roundness the ear’s deafness.