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 30, 2012
glass through which images traveled,
glass in magnification,
ice like glass,
April 29, 2012
in glass.
she then seemed to take an interest
until 2:30 that morning.
she believed in their superstition
April 28, 2012
the mirror was the devil's toy.
they said stay away from the mirror.
and there were deer.
they had a birdhouse in the back,
April 27, 2012
April 25, 2012
April 24, 2012
she loved the headless accordionist unconditionally.
