Crackle by Roberta Lawson

He is born in suburban isolation, raised religious; steeped in rugged individualism and the superiority of the self. Aged seventeen he flees for London and New York, for Bangkok, Delhi, Jaipur, Tokyo. In thronging hordes of people at first he cannot tell if he hears his own heartbeat or that of those around him. When music plays he — finally — hears only music, scents everything all at once. Fleeing, running, milling, dancing, he falls into giddy women, men; is intoxicated on muddled humanity. As he brushes his shoulders against other people’s shoulders until he almost has no shoulders — until he is just energy, merged inside a bristling ball of human energy — who he was begins to blur. Lost in a sea of one other, he begins to exist.

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7 Comments

Filed under Roberta Lawson

7 responses to “Crackle by Roberta Lawson

  1. A poem, Roberta, and one that is filled with the sensory description of the crowd.

  2. yes to this. i could feel it. dense and colorful.

  3. len kuntz

    it definitely crackled. yes.

  4. Dorothee

    Great take on the Energy of the Crowd- dionysian Comes to mind.

  5. individuation out of the swarm. beautiful, and wonderful mouthfeel –read it out loud. peace…

  6. Pingback: Week #44 – Crowd | 52|250 A Year of Flash

  7. that prose-poetry utterance…the way the words flow and the lines speak. Wonderful!

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