Letter to Marshall from the Scarecrow’s Pocket

 

Letter to Marshall from the Scarecrow’s Pocket

Dear Daniel: How fortunate we are to tap into this medium of ether
and zeros and ones and all the combinations employed in our paperless
context. I am drawn to the concept of text as textile, as an entity
woven into the fabric of communication. Who knew that simple lines,
dots, dashes and squiggles would someday depict so well our
abstract beginnings and fingered desires, from counted goats and
jars of oil to the tattoo on a beloved’s inner thigh. The gap between
thought and graphic representation, whether on paper or glowing
screen, seems heightened these days, in spite of their ubiquitous
presences. I scratched my name onto the frozen creek’s surface,
only to watch it subsume as the mercury rose. I report this only
because you’ve scribed too well that feeling of treading on uncertain
surfaces, of words expanding in meaning and dragging us along
separate byways, fork into fork, under and through what we
never considered. That is our fate – to emerge from the pocket,
folded, wrinkled and smudged, smelling of makkoli and fish
markets and unwritten phrases stored in rice jars, our personal
creases expanding as we inspect the characters found there, some
crimped, others elongated, still others nearly invisible but apparent
through indentation. Translate these and what have you but a history
of glorious failures and unfelt victories in marks, on white,
somehow of note, if only to oneself. Success is a stranger’s smile,
an omelet cooked to order and eaten with gusto. It pulses
in the doing, in the unsteady drip from the faucet with a desiccated
washer, and the ink staining the page symbol by line. I know only
what I know, which ain’t much, but I keep trying to learn, to
cobble together these odd symbols into assemblages greater than
myself. As if anyone would notice. Say hello to the marred, the
cracked and disheveled of Jeju, and I’ll return the favor from
my hideaway in the Texas hills. As always, believe. Bob.

 

“Letter to Marshall from the Scarecrow’s Pocket” first appeared on Vox Populi in July 2018. I am grateful to Michael Simms for publishing this piece (and others).

 

 

20 thoughts on “Letter to Marshall from the Scarecrow’s Pocket

  1. Having Preyed (and prayed) at the alter of Dessicated Washers, must drop the next few transcriptions to render thanks for this piece, this letter to marshall from the scarecrow’s pocket. Bless all involved, especially the pocket. Thanks. J

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I have this vision of you in the wee hours – floating on a flying dream carpet through dark sky off to the field – where you shrink down and drift down to slip into Scarecrow’s pocket to pull pen and pad from your pocket and begin some serious poetry composition … Scarecrow standing guard against intrusions until you exhale, bursting out of pocket to grasp the edge of the dream carpet floating by – its magic to restore your size and return you home … all before dawn opens inquisitive eyes. (I can think of no likelier explanation!)

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Robert, a few sections I really really enjoy: “I am drawn to the concept of text as textile, as an entity
    woven into the fabric of communication. Who knew that simple lines,
    dots, dashes and squiggles would someday depict so well our
    abstract beginnings and fingered desires,…” and “…I know only
    what I know, which ain’t much, but I keep trying to learn, to
    cobble together these odd symbols into assemblages greater than
    myself. As if anyone would notice..” ❤️❤️

    Liked by 1 person

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