the still passenger sits on a train, on the window seat, in the middle of a long car. these are the days when there were drive-in movie theaters dotted across the landscape. at dusk, the images on the screen appear off in the distance. the images presented here are those which are glimpsed, the ones that still her thoughts. the train rolls along. the landscape seems to move, but doesn't. the still passenger sits alone with her snapshots in her mind. she's filling in the spaces.
October 31, 2013
she sees a dark tunnel in my palm. but i never believe her.
i see outlines of faces, drawn by little fingers, in hallways that don't end.
the man who is outside the coffin being seen from the inside?
this kind of guidance always frightened me.
five oscar levants playing the violin,
in duplicate. they are stamps on my mind.
October 30, 2013
here, out of the darkness of the cave,
comes a tumbleweed.
nothing but sticks,
my tumbleweed friend,
tumbling.
October 29, 2013
in the morning, the children play the flutes.
the castanet dancer
has her fortune told
with blank cards.
arthur conforts me. it happens all at once.
October 28, 2013
her problem was
that she could
never be
lady argentina.
October 27, 2013
we wil be able to hear music soon. i know it.
the boy shone his light on the castanet dancer's legs. 1948.
as she walked through the crowd in lisbon.
the light hitting only her white ankles.
she stopped to dance.
but she never started. the light had moved.
he shone his light on a face in the crowd.
October 26, 2013
i had a dream of my father.
i lifted the material
until i saw the corner
of his smile.
October 25, 2013
i was older in the pyrenees. we stayed there for weeks. winter. 1948.
you were so much younger. i watched you wash the dishes.
i am stronger than arthur with one hand tied. but power is absent here. we see it's result.
this is our fate. a sometimes wonderful fate.
October 24, 2013
it is all so circuitous. my guess is that it doesn't end.
the coffin at the shop had a window. you climbed in. the sky was spectacular, you said.
there were always stilts. why stilts? we asked ourselves.
dark, muted, romantic evenings in sawdust bars.
finally sex games all night in tunisia.
October 23, 2013
there was machinery everywhere.
at times, we didn't know where we were. frightening and delicious. floating.
this step could have been anywhere.
October 22, 2013
she will dream of balloonists.
at that time, we welcomed our different faces.
deborah said that the transformation took place at sleep.
