Crispin Rodrigues (b. 1988)

SELECTED POEMS

Desertification

(After Pangaea)

Every desert began as an ocean 
or pasture, a sprawling fertile

spark for life. And each animal 
and plant understood the fragility

of land, burying roots 
in sand, tongues lapping

tinges of dirt. At night, the earth 
gave back, cooling the ground

for slumber. And every being 
was happy. Until the earth

wanted further reach.
Rift valleys gave themselves

new meanings. The creatures felt 
only tremors, nothing alarming,

until cracks were observed, 
water levels fell. Days

grew warmer, and nights 
blistering cold. What the animals

could take they took and fled: 
paw, fin, wing and scale. The plants,

beggars to howling winds, left 
their seeds to chance,

until there was nowhere else
to go. At opposite ends, they watched

land break and float 
into mist, until no shadow

was seen. Until what remained, 
taunting all creation,

was a desert in the centre, too hot 
to travel, too cold for sleep.

by Crispin Rodrigues
from How Now Blown Crow (2021)

 

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