crow/n
After Roger Reeves’s poem “Of Genocide, or Merely Sounds”
meg jerit
What are we supposed
To say, I ask mentally
& the crows begin
Cawing saying
Forward, rush forth
Over this wet, open
air—
truth—a gush from the lips
deluge holy destruction
throwing down fear’s
tyrants that try to whisper lies
From the inside of us, that point
At many wings and call it:
murder. That tell you to for
get your humanity, sacrifice
Your sanity, for a sliver of stolen
serenity.
Open the box of
Flying things and see them sing
Their songs somehow more true
To you than the cries of buried
sons, their crowns still
ablaze.
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Meg Jerit (she/her) is a writer, poet, editor, and teaching artist living in Austin, TX. She
attended the Kenyon Review Summer Writing Workshop in 2022 and earned her MFA in
Creative Nonfiction from Columbia College Chicago in 2023. Some of her work can be found in Adelaide Literary Magazine, Allium: A Journal of Poetry & Prose, Miracles Magazine, The Commercial Appeal, The Southwestern Review, and more. She also hosts a hybrid reading-series-open-mic locally, called Smushed Blueberries: Stories, Poems, and Other Juice, as a space for communal self-expression and the healing power of spoken word.
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Instagram - @megitate
