America: Before the Last War
Published in The Boston Review
That said, lets remain seated until the credits finish. Look,
this theatre was almost empty. We were almost moguls.
The doors are glinting. Which exit did you choose?
God only knows how Johnny Barber, so-called gaffer,
got his union card. He must be someones nephew.
That said, lets use the remaining minutes to talk about us.
What was it Misty said? In that scene at the bungalow?
Lets get empirical? Thats the stub. Lets get empirical.
Who will bear me, the man with the juju hands? Oh,
did you know that Willem Dafoe turned down the part
of Mojo, the fanatical celibate hit-man? Hes envisaging.
Ill miss the ambiguous spiccato of your nails against
our empty popcorn box. Id like to meet someone, I have
an idea for a movie about bookended forethoughts.
Its hard to believe that a filmstrip this vital is only now
receiving its official release. Listen, it sounds like rain,
at dusk, impinging the skin of a Cape cranberry bog.
It sounds like a substitute. I feel like ducking, covering.