{"id":2028,"date":"2013-02-07T00:40:16","date_gmt":"2013-02-07T00:40:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=2028"},"modified":"2013-02-09T15:14:03","modified_gmt":"2013-02-09T15:14:03","slug":"ronojoy-sircar213","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/ronojoy-sircar213\/","title":{"rendered":"Ronojoy Sircar"},"content":{"rendered":"

No Jules, passed towns, not past towns.<\/strong><\/p>\n

“One might almost say that truth itself depends on the tempo, the patience and perseverance of lingering with the particular(…)”<\/p>\n

Had she
\nbeen trying to
\nfall asleep,
\nshe would not have
\nwoken up.<\/p>\n

So you can take
\nthat shard out now,
\nit’s stuck right behind
\nyour ear
\nThey were careless
\nin their inspection<\/p>\n

But maybe she doesn’t know,
\nYet<\/p>\n

Maybe she doesn’t have to
\nfind out,
\nYet<\/p>\n

Poor girl.<\/p>\n

There will be no bottle, corner, or moment
\nnot left unturned,
\nwith it’s contents unsullied
\nby the damp winter
\nmorning air;
\nThe mornings where the moon
\nIs as relevant
\nAs that brown crust, that has
\nNow been preserved
\nIn a cataract between
\nSpace
\nand time,
\nUnder that window sill
\nIn the study,
\nfor post-apocalyptic
\nviewers to harvest anew
\na new Friday,
\nDecember the 16th,
\nWhere
\nhe would not fly out
\nThe window
\ninto black letters, that
\nthrown unsteady,
\nwould come back
\nShattering the porch window
\nof her heart,
\nWhere roots would begin
\nto dangle uninhibited
\nOver a sea, made
\nof porches and boardwalks
\nExpanding into s p a c e s
\nUnderneath
\nas he catches her shoe
\nMidflight
\nOnce again, with that same
\nWink, followed
\nby the same words
\nthat now lie diagonal to the
\nFloor<\/p>\n

“Loss is only half a memory”<\/p>\n

So, no<\/p>\n

Had she
\nbeen trying to
\nfall asleep,
\nShe would not have
\nWoken up
\nto look for those slippers.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Ronojoy is from New Delhi, and likes to dance when no one’s looking under defunct street lamps.
\nYou can reach him at ronojoy.sircar@gmail.com<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

No Jules, passed towns, not past towns. “One might almost say that truth itself depends on the tempo, the patience and perseverance of lingering with the particular(…)” Had she been trying to fall asleep, she would not have woken up. So you can take that shard out now, it’s stuck right behind your ear They […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":934,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-2028","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nRonojoy Sircar - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/ronojoy-sircar213\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Ronojoy Sircar - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"No Jules, passed towns, not past towns. “One might almost say that truth itself depends on the tempo, the patience and perseverance of lingering with the particular(…)” Had she been trying to fall asleep, she would not have woken up. 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