Friday, January 11, 2013

A Poem by Sherry Steiner


He non-linguistically defiled the nouns stacked miles high without permission. Formal aspects of the human condition shuddered a collective sigh, Zola's memory rang out. It was 5 AM and Etienne was accused of being a modern theatre: a reverse burlesque in the red square. He insisted it was blue as he recited Murphy's law and the Miranda rights in tandem. It was apparent that the Russians would be short on patience so he blinked back to 1833 and the smell of coffee permeated his boardinghouse room where once again the reductio ad absurdum went stage left. Two streams flowed into one - mockingbirds wore crutches - and Alabama was just a notion. Needless to say everyone wore confusion. It was fortunate that the weight of the trains on the roof was only a bisecting attempt to be graphically unreal as Etienne threw the switch. Lens distortion, promotional stills, story boarding on green grass. Static horizontals fade in and fade out - a vague roller coaster - a golden lens of delight. In Italy a sober eye is the harbinger of the hobbyist grinning with color in that black and white kind of way while spatial relationships enter the Japanese film playing in Harlem and upon hearing that Etienne mutters politely 'Oh I doubt that'
Sherry Steiner
Housatonic MA

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