Birdwolf is a new year-long project authored by the collective Entropy community. It is a collaborative online epic poem written by the Entropy community on a weekly basis. A different author will write the next stanza or section of the poem each week, to be posted every Tuesday, following the previous post from the previous week, and following a very limited set of guidelines (that each author has one week to write the next piece after the previous week’s installment goes up, that the installment should build from the previous section’s content and form, and that contributions should range between 8 and 24 lines or be a visual work).
Follow the entire epic poem here: Birdwolf.
The fourth installment is presented this week by Emily Stern.
Two Great Horned Owls perched atop opposite motel parking lot light posts, to ruminate the implications of the concierge’s indifference.
Had she really swatted the salutary graze of their wings?
Across her every which way but loose coiffure?
To light a Virginia Slim?
170 miles away, in a desert Baptist church,
A family sings.
The ritual to memorialize the death of a mother varies.
Its preparation begins as a child.
The fragility of an ant.
The buoyancy of a goldfish.
The carnage of a roasting chicken,
A mother dies
Over and over again in the mind of a child,
Daydream or terror,
The gauge to which all heartbreak compares
To which all emptiness will pale.
In the sunbreak, sparrows submit
Their onomatopoeia to the wind,
A philanthropic attempt
To liberate amens
Into the holiness that is everything.