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.
April 23, 2014
she sees her lips on her napkin.
she sees her vulva in the white tablecloth.
April 22, 2014
prepare to be quiet.
the game will be played behind the doors,
in the middle of the night.
i will stay awake. i will watch my face slowly change.
April 21, 2014
the ace of hearts is gone!
just another venus on the half-shell slipped it from the deck.
she took it home and framed it above her bed.
the clowns watched the planet spin.
April 20, 2014
i am made-up
every day as someone else.
if i was made
to look like lon chaney,
you may believe it.
April 19, 2014
it is not what they know
that will hurt you
it is what they don't know
that they will hold against you.
i can hear you now. i can read your mind.
so tell me. do you feel the same?
that has been my experience.
April 18, 2014
last night,
i was looking at the blades of an iris,
and i began to mistrust
the images that we see everyday,
or the words that are used to describe them.
reproductions of reproductions. misguided information.
April 17, 2014
i see this man everywhere i go, always in kandinsky refections.
i don't what to make of this.
the tin fireman on top of the tin house.
this dancer forming a cross, flying over the abyss. some do escape.
April 16, 2014
i should introduce an american who just boarded the train, doctor hanna smith.
