The Raven is Like a Writing Desk
The Raven knows the writing desk.
He knows it with an intense intimacy.
He knows no other vacancy.
But to say vacancy is unfair.
When worlds multiply in his mind.
And the writing desk knows this.
She encourages him, allowing this.
And worlds multiply, but only to him.
He only lets the writing desk in.
To destroy a world is murder.
To kill a world is storytelling.
To forget a world is impossible.
And the Raven is still and silent.
Barely uttering a speakable word.
Notice how he avoids food normal for a bird.
When he’s tasted worlds, bland knows meaning.
His needs are never fully quenched.
His life is forever entangled into the writing desk.
And the writing desk is silent.
Taking no pity on the sick Raven.
She only builds him a safe haven.