Last night I read a poem—or more like stood there—at a cozy little get together with some friends.
Some people choose to read, some sing, play guitar, it all goes. There are jokes.
I tried something new, which was to share a private act, in a public space, and see what that turns like.
It was cool.
I had a recording on my phone of a poem I recited in the bath about a week ago. I wanted to catch it before it left, with no pen.
It was meant for my ears only and transcription, but it got so much more.
The treatment. To stand in a room and hold up a device that holds my voice, naked, small,
vulnerable and rhythmic.
I pressed the button and let if play with my hand lifted and let my body naturally position where it may.
Turns out I cried a little bc it was kinda like it was me twice and I could hear the sensitivity in some of the notes. The poem was a little freestyle and rhythmic and interspersed clusters of climate change language (bc that was the book i was reading in the tub ha) along with the repetition of a black bird.
More specifically it was an fusion of that portion of Forest Gump when the little girl says, “Dear God make me a bird….” except this one said Dear god make me a bird, a black bird, black–
as a refrain and went from there. I’ll probably go ahead and transcribe it later.
I wanted to place the audio here, but I listened to it from the computer last night and it just doesn’t work the same.
It was something about standing there in a room full of people, holding my own voice, that made it work for whatever reason.
I ended up making a video last night to add the voice, but it just didn’t sound right so I changed the sound. This is what I got and idk. Whatevs. I like the slow birds.