Slideshow
She held her smile for a while
but in the second frame
appeared a little strained
looked at food with a fork
—she complained
it’s always too warm and too much a compliment
with you
your heavy-handed compliments
a moment in the stream
the rod tip gleamed
motionless
it never shuddered or stirred
He looked away
blue sky over the garden
and the ground seemed to bloom
dirty, waiting for the rain
thunderheads in the hazy distant horizon
the broken plain
thinking of Custer
his last haircut
Blue Evening
and looking off beyond the screen
faded out
Too much
—he proclaimed
yelling now
voices rising
past the six foot fences of rotting wood
propped up by some fading proposition
for a photograph
waiting for the time, the money, the arrangement
flipping the flowers bloomed
buzzing and dripping with a camera flash
a thousand tiny prints
Staring down through the glass table top
toward their bare feet
tanned discreetly
but only half as well-manicured as the lawn
And the pretended argument of a million little details
stalled for a moment in the sun
and the picture turned around
was autocorrected discreetly
the frame cropped until there was only the two
fit in
He stood for a moment
shouted
some heavy-handed remark
a final word
and faded away with the next transition
the backlight dimmed
and the slideshow was at an end.
but in the second frame
appeared a little strained
looked at food with a fork
—she complained
it’s always too warm and too much a compliment
with you
your heavy-handed compliments
a moment in the stream
the rod tip gleamed
motionless
it never shuddered or stirred
He looked away
blue sky over the garden
and the ground seemed to bloom
dirty, waiting for the rain
thunderheads in the hazy distant horizon
the broken plain
thinking of Custer
his last haircut
Blue Evening
and looking off beyond the screen
faded out
Too much
—he proclaimed
yelling now
voices rising
past the six foot fences of rotting wood
propped up by some fading proposition
for a photograph
waiting for the time, the money, the arrangement
flipping the flowers bloomed
buzzing and dripping with a camera flash
a thousand tiny prints
Staring down through the glass table top
toward their bare feet
tanned discreetly
but only half as well-manicured as the lawn
And the pretended argument of a million little details
stalled for a moment in the sun
and the picture turned around
was autocorrected discreetly
the frame cropped until there was only the two
fit in
He stood for a moment
shouted
some heavy-handed remark
a final word
and faded away with the next transition
the backlight dimmed
and the slideshow was at an end.
posted by read | 2:23 PM
2 Comments:
Is Blue Evening reference to a surname? While working on the reservation in South Dakota, I once knew a kid by the last name of Blue Earth. Some of my favorite names were--Owen Tin Cup and Orval Looking Glass. The latter was, at the time, the Keeper of the Pipe for the Lakota. He lived in Green Grass, South Dakota.
I wish I was fortunate enough to meet someone with a cool name like Bue Evening, but no. It's actually waht I named a picture my dad took of me fly fishing on the Big Horn. For whatever reason it came out really blue, but I always liked the wide angle shot that seemed to capture the essence of the river. There are some cool surnames up here, though. One of my favorties is Real Bird. He's a fishing guide.
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