PHOTOGRAPH BY KERTESZ
The concierge's dog
hooks front legs over
the balustrade:
diaphragm
dented, sex concealed by
wrought iron floret
Disequilibrium
cockatiel scream bob-
bob-bob-bob-bob:
no matter
Turned into sun's runnel,
stern-mouthed, hot nosed
the dog peers for secrets:
hands joined with the wrong
hands, missing bands,
an ancient
mother's door passed on by --
even though she's home
But what of that non-dog
un-bird shadow on
the balcony,
issuing
from the apartment dark?
A sweating truth -- bound
in oilskin wrap, bulky
as a seal stranded
too far inland --
too heavy
to heave across handles
and bike up the street
too dense to smoke to rouged
delectation, slice
thin, consume at
corner store
HERR KEPLER'S NOTEBOOK
Time is the bully anchor of the opposing tug-rope team.
The person with a happy home life tracks glitter through the world; the solitary person leaves snowprints.
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"The grasshopper warbler's song comes up out of the earth just as you think the day is quietening down. It has no prelude or warm-up: it starts midperformance, as if switched on by the dark, as it if has been singing like this beneath the earth until it was dark enough to come to the surface. As if, though we hardly hear it, this singing never stops."
A Year on the Wing (Tim Dee)
All writing and cartoons on this site copyright 2008-2010 Julia Martin, unless otherwise credited.
The person with a happy home life tracks glitter through the world; the solitary person leaves snowprints.
-------------------------------------
"The grasshopper warbler's song comes up out of the earth just as you think the day is quietening down. It has no prelude or warm-up: it starts midperformance, as if switched on by the dark, as it if has been singing like this beneath the earth until it was dark enough to come to the surface. As if, though we hardly hear it, this singing never stops."
A Year on the Wing (Tim Dee)
All writing and cartoons on this site copyright 2008-2010 Julia Martin, unless otherwise credited.
I wish I could see the photograph!
ReplyDeleteI love the obscure sense of conspiracy here, of the dog sniffing out secrecy but being part of the secrets harbored by his owners nevertheless.