Crow + the Poem is a running diary-poem, a love letter to the ether from Lex Orgera.
I’m all over the place, displacing current events by waking up at four to worry about this other time I woke at four to the sound of drumming. That feeling that someone was inside the house, watching me sleep. When a word like visit dreams itself into existence, you find a way not to be a dick, not to tell it to buzz off. Even if it’s misshapen, wrong- headed, like that sinister figure in the dark. Concentrate long enough & the word becomes a ghost, breathes on your neck, laughs at your dumb jokes. I guess I’m saying that the word is a living appendage of the void & that the void is this thing that acts like winter, arriving in such a panic the sunflowers are still blooming in the snow. The trick to forward movement is to diagram your shadow. Today’s meme: what a year this week has been— I will never be grateful to clocks.
visit - we sit - there is something balanced about this word for me. like it just poured us tea and we are looking at three people through a window. One person in the middle is adorned by two on each side of him wanting his attention. Above his head an angel blindfolded points an arrow at the peak of his head. He is not aware. There is an interplay of hands but all we can focus on is the hand on his chest… drawing the string of heart.
I like this poem, something happening to surprise in every line.