reflection toward Sophie Klahr’s ‘Two Open Doors In a Field’ (The Backwaters Press, 2023)

Two Open Doors In A Field
Sophie Klahr, poems
The Backwaters Press, 2023

I watched that movie about the recording of Springsteen’s Nebraska and that night had a dream about a unicorn machine that broke when it found a hidden program within itself that believed it could make unicorns real. I tried for the poem that wasn’t there and it took not even close to seven days. I impulsively then bought some poetry books by Sophie Klahr. Two Open Doors In A Field by Sophie Klahr. What conversational angelry is this. This is. Klahr is a poet of undiscovered repetitions. Is a field a prophet? Afield, a prophet. Oh dreaming eyesore. This verse motions to its movement to do loss with less. Longing is a road out of itself. We cannot win together the lottery of solitude but perhaps with an accurate ambling as voiced over a travelogue of punk plainness that eats nowhere’s breakfast we can, familiar foreign forensic, twice believe there is a sound that might de-crowd the precisions of myth. Death sketches the face of god. Tiny details are lost. Be alone, sure. But you don’t have to feel that you are. Klahr gives the flattening its uneven corpse. Seeing is watching and stillness a rent owed epiphany.