Saturday, January 28, 2017

there's a legal limit to the snow here

Natalie Portman looks into the mirror and sees
herself underneath Jackie O.
I look in there and see Natalie Portman
underneath a lot of face fat
from the Skittles and the Oreos
I don't even like Oreos.
But I do like this little outpost of cinema
in the thick of Michiana.
I am wearing the turtleneck that makes me feel like Jackie O
I leave the silly chintzy purple-red-carpeted building to
the parking lot, lit up with purple-red light from the marquee.
I walk to my car, and I am stuck in Camelot,
the Lerner and Loewe's music
swirls through my ears as I float surrounded by
Stéphane Fontaine's swinging camera frames.
I am fozen in an amber glow that
emanates from Pablo Larraín's scenes
of the cellists playing in the White House ballroom
as
I drive out into the darkness of rural Michiana

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