Saturday, January 31, 2009
THE MAJESTY OF MINIATURE
Her method, her mechanism, was to catalogue all that was left behind. A catalogue, thorough, springing up through her mind’s eye like a typewritten crisp clean note. She did the washing for this reason, and this reason only. She found, and remembered, and treasured, whatever fell from pockets, from cuffs and creases. Buttons in all sizes, from teddy's eye to moon plate; coins, foreign and familiar, bearing profiles of far-off kings; hair clips, tiny screws, bee's bonnets, spider trophies. And she had, to thank, whatever force in the world hid the most important things in the most unimportant places.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
WHITEOUT
The one thing, to be supposed, about snow:
it evens us out.
One scene becoming much like another.
A street from here becoming a street
from over there.
So bright, really,
that nothing else matters.
it evens us out.
One scene becoming much like another.
A street from here becoming a street
from over there.
So bright, really,
that nothing else matters.
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