everything I know about New York
comes from the movie The Clock,
the seals in Central Park,
the buildings that pickpocket clouds.
sailboating kids with quick kicks,
the buses down 5th Ave. with amiable chicks.
the museums are open on Sundays,
the soldiers are quick with their handkerchiefs.
finally -- and this is key,
the city is unquiet. "listen," Judy
whispers. in the dark
the traffic, the Park, the lunatic Robert Walker
sing, singe, fall in love. They kiss.
"We have to go," Judy Garland says.
In New York, stranded lovers are given rides
by talkative milkmen,
and Miss Nelly Green's requests are all
they play on the radio.
The Clock is a rather great movie. For one, you can see its director, Vincente Minelli, falling in love with its star, Judy Garland; the camera inches closer and closer to her face, as if the twinkle it held in its lens was Liza. For two, it shares with Before Sunrise the plot: two young people really want to have sex, but are too nervous and actually like one another too much to go about doing it.
the Funny Show
agriculture poem
my life in the ghost of Bush
time-lapsed (part 1)
unreconciled
Images are taken without permission from the fine and trusting folks at Folk Arts of Poland; please purchase something from them. Background music stolen without permission from Epitonic, Basta Music, and just about everywhere else my unscrupulous hands could grab something. No rights reserved.
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