SUSANNAH
In the red light
of her darkroom,
Strips of film
hang down in mourning
For all the
borrowed time,
For all the
chasing of problems,
For
all the pyramids of skulls.
I know why
you’re here.
You know the
same about me.
I heard her once
in a telephone interview.
Her voice was a
mix of tunnel of love special effects
And
Cinderella breaking in to the Hacker’s Ball.
Not to capture
reality,
But to generate
notoriety,
To treat every
day without triggering
The
nostaligia of your own sexual value.
I brought you a
going away present,
Never having
made a passport for anybody
I didn’t want to
leave.
She connected
the yellow and blue wires
And
left the car running.
Her heart had
more firepower
Than
a suitcase machine gun.
Spoken word version from Homage.
Copyright © 2007 by Jim Cohn