Trilobite

two poems

Alice Hall

CRISIS IN REALISM

it is the little flashlight of the usher, moving like an uncertain comet across the night of our waking dream

–André Bazin

I don't go to the movies anymore

I don't go to the bars because


—Say it,

I DON'T TRUST A SINGLE MOTHERFUCKER IN HERE,


okay so

the image of things is the image of their duration

oh you mean

the silver eggy

gelatine print

between my finger pads


—Say it,

I'D GIVE EM A BIG KISS! ☺


photographs are

one, a hallucination that is also a fact

two, an umbilical cord

three, the delayed rays of a star


the death drive of the Niagara River

took a woman   and her car

like Williams who always said he wanted

to kiss the Passaic with his body


four, something that our eyes alone have not taught us to love


mercenary heart

you always catch me

listening against the walls

what direction do your nails point


on the other hand, of course, cinema

is also a language and it's hard to deny the appeal


I can also listen to the martians

I can also get deep dark and I can go to the ocean and ask it

how dare you do the thing you do

I don't go to the movies anymore

I don't go to the bars because


—Say it,

I DON'T TRUST A SINGLE MOTHERFUCKER IN HERE,


okay so            the image of things is the image of their duration

oh you mean    the silver eggy

gelatine print

between my finger pads


—Say it,

I'D GIVE EM A BIG KISS! ☺


photographs are

one, a hallucination that is also a fact

two, an umbilical cord

three, the delayed rays of a star


the death drive of the Niagara River

took a woman   and her car

like Williams who always said he wanted

to kiss the Passaic with his body


four, something that our eyes alone have not taught us to love


mercenary heart                  you always catch me

listening against the walls   what direction do your nails point


on the other hand, of course, cinema

is also a language and it's hard to deny the appeal


I can also listen to the martians

I can also get deep dark and I can go to the ocean and ask it

how dare you do the thing you do

LOVE, MANGANESE BLUE STYLE

the way the rose bush leans against the siding peeling off the building's edge. the air exiting hoarse in the throat. pollen pretends a closeness. the web of foam spat out by gnats coating the bushes. spun spittle baking in the sunlight. thank you for your payment. thank you for your payment. thank you for your payment. waste and care lie together on the sidewalk. covered in dirt and chalk. two-by-fours with nails scattered in the yard. nicknamed mr. dangers. your order is ready for pickup. loved a movie. loved a message. disliked a picture. thank you for your payment. caulked up coughing the shingle slides the siding off the structure's slope, yes I am caterwauling again. I repeat the story, I repeat the story. your interest is appreciated and we're happy to accommodate you. the way it smells here. your hair, somewhere between laundry and the trees.