Friday, July 17, 2009

470. KINETESCOPE

KINETESCOPE
The old doll was shaking her hands violently,
peeling the coating off the floorboards. Her
eyes raged, wide-opened and glaring.
For one brief instant I was certain I glimpsed
a nativity of sureness, the arrival of some
new form of Grace. Just then, someone
brought a dog in, on a chain. Its snaggly
face both growled and barked at the
same time. Lifting the gauze of Heaven,
like a wastrel child in a very old film,
both man and dog and woman
plunged into the depths of the
river - over the bulkhead, into
the deep. Some ancient East
River tugboat slowly
sliced by.

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