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Slow Emulsions

Peter Jay Shippy

On a squelchy winter morning
Men with eyes like water-worn pebbles
Hang in front of a movie theater
In Book Club Country. You can find
Cities like these in most scenes: spaces
Where cineastes gather, hoping
That an electric golf cart will pull up
With a studio flunky, offering
A day’s pay and juju beans in return
For two hours work. The landscape
Percolates anomie the way
A leaf perfoliates a stem, starting
With the prime figure bent under
The camera’s black cape, watching
Men hang for the weak sunlight
To diffuse and wipe prevailing moods.
It may take years for subjects
To supply this control. It be so.

Peter Jay Shippy

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