Friday, July 25, 2008

Yearbook (7.4)

You who are the sergeant of this summer camp island, make its meaning clear or make it go away. Bitter-blue rosicule, ashen pegs, trembleberry, fog apples, barnacle bush, Constable’s tarnmallow, creeping fulgoria, darlingbuttons, tigerfingers, Mack’s shadowblossom, pinchfruit, Dodge’s purplet, Marat-vine, dough-daisies, Eskimo hat, flumenellia, pumpkin-of-the-valley, knee-high creamcup, crepuscular cat’s-tongue, sheep-eyed perdita, brinemarriage, bractless Cinderella-stalk, poor-man’s petit-four, narniaweed, deception prune, old-lady’s knockers, emerald basilica, Oberon’s garters, appledate, late-blooming field-perfidia, Tumanova’s dalliance, scrubadub, seascratch, lady’s fever, volenib, modest queenseyes, waterblench, subalpine meander, silver tush, and other unusual plants will be found—pressed, dried, and rather carelessly labeled—in the archives of Mr. P. M. R. Doona. And then, waking, it was noonish, he was clear on a few things with her: cinema verité could not have sorted their feelings: pencil shavings, marbles, the thought of pencil shavings, as if a glass eye rolled between their hearts’ resisting. Because you said, “These are my hills now, those are my mountains, I’m well-rounded,” our shadows took a sharp curve, lingered on strangers’ doors, and felt themselves up lightly. You went to the movies just to sit in the dark in the balcony with your legs stretched out, sipping chocolate milk from a plastic cup, but it wasn’t enough so you went behind the curtain (where you’d never been) and read the credits backwards on the back of the screen and rested there till everyone was gone and the lights switched off and the projectionist locked up for the night. Oooh, that’s when it got exciting? ? ? ? What was supposed to be Butch Summer turned out to be Hamburger Summer.

1 comment:

Boom said...

I am grateful for the Julys we have spent and I gush in hopes for many more. I love you.