David Priol

His hands were outspread
Christ caught by the Box
Brownie's blood smeared lens, like
history's diaphanous diaspora, of
Babel's descent into bedlam.
All the sounds blessed by
the murderous indifference
of the faithlessly faithful
photographed in the heat
of their rutting music . . . all
the sounds of the birth knell
as slap of hand on baby's behind
creates the cold cry of life
a hard day's journey into night.

And he had captured Christ
on film, the second coming
. . . the director pulls back,
the editor pales
in the cameraman's coil
The final scene deleted

Leaving only the impossible
. . . that third day reprisal

Smash Hit, Silent Movie.


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