I love letting myself fall down the rabbit hole that is the internet. Click next, read more, see full text. How I love these words. For they have led me to some of my most treasured people, objects, and places.
My recent obsession: the poetry of Alex Dimitrov. He writes with such quiet elegance but also with such force that before I start reading, I have to go through a little ritual to prepare myself. I turn off all sound-making devices, get myself a little something to drink (preferably, NOT alcohol), apply lipstick. And then I don't just read. I do the loud whisper. You know, when you are speaking softly under your breath but everyone can actually hear you. I am usually a silent reader. Something about this work, though, makes me want to be on my best behavior but in a theatrical kind of way. Ha!
Here's one of his pieces that was just published at Memorious.
This city you live in, terrified, is now empty.
Friends fly in and out—for love,
sometimes for nothing. And this evening,
a mist so fine your lips are slick
as you walk from his apartment to his
and then back, into yourself.
There is a place everyone leaves for.
Someone you slept with once said that to you
while he ran his hands over your face.
And there is a place for those still here,
watching the last ships circle around the receding island.