kitfox

Monsieur Velvet Knuckles replied to my last journal with the quasi-suicidal poem "Stopping by Woods on a Snowing Evening." In consideration, I present Ms. Atwood's work.

This is a Photograph of Me

It was taken some tyme ago.
At first it seems to be
a smeared
print: blurred lines and grey flecks
blended with the paper.

then as you scan
it, you see in the left hand corner
a thing that is like a branch: part of a tree
(balsam or spruce) emerging
and, to the right, halfway up
what ought to be a gentle
slope, a small frame house.

In that background, there is a lake,
and beyond that, some low hills.

(The photograph was taken
the day after I drowned.
I am in the lake, in the centre
of the picture, just under the surface.

It is difficult to say where
precisely, or to say
how large or small I am:
the effect of water
on light is a distortion

but if you look long enough,
eventually,
you will be able to see me.)

Things to do:
-Donate old pair of glasses.
-Read Tartuffe by Jean-Baptiste Moliere for Lit.
-Pick up electrical tape and black sheets for the shoot.
-Shoot first SG photoset.