I don’t know if it’s
teeming or About to
BURST or what?
But I can feel the
great leaden weight
of my stomach—
what have I done
to myself—my reward
undoing. Sweat sweetly sliding
through the hair on my
chest.
[i keep a blank moleskine next to my bed. i’ll wake up in starts and jot words, ideas. recently i rolled out of bed and found this entry. i’m not sure who wrote it. very weird. very minor editing.]
The brain function!
each line flirting dangerously close to each above
suburban new jersey tan
sandy sandals skin cement
The patterns repeating!
another handsome man
illuminates his jaw
foreground becomes background
the first assistant cameraman earns his sleep
and Fellini’s big toe is bleeding again
On the third re-write:
“Terrible!
the cruel bees have sucked
all the life from these poor flowers.”
The camera pans, eye follows
think cribward, lens exposing film
light through the apartment’s curtain
sounds at city dawn, as an also-ran theatre
absolute silence; safer here between
her blinking lash against yr ear.
“Ricordati che è un film comico”
