Cutting film / pubic hair / onion slices with silent high / contrast images / simultaneously  concise  
yet expansive vignettes / this surrealist evening’s screening makes me believe / in alchemy  / tastes  
of vinegar’s echoey ping / linger in air / in mouth / how / sour enjoyment saturates body as I  watch  
frames transfer between scenes / inciting desire to complete gaps / inference derived from  interstitial  
flowers as vaginal expansion / the bloom of spices in oil and heat / to reach for a bread knife  conjures  
an old belief / that blades as gifts will sever a relationship / symbols travel through time and  story  
/ to become ritual / and now we’ve arrived / watch throat slit in black and white / did you use  ketchup /  
may I lick dripping blood back into your neck if we run the projector in reverse / flick a switch /  make  
waves break backwards / to rejoin sea / all washing over me / acceptance over comprehension  / release  
need for a cohesive narrative / abandoned as I / sink into pillows / chess pieces jag across a map  progress  
/ yet / the victor is inconsequential / the point is the frame / is manipulation / each edit made by  splice /  
pass me the blade / reclaim analog compilation / assembly as physical act / as sacramental  practice /  
Cut! as remnant command from days of tangible film / back when each take contained monetary  cost /  
opposition to now / when memory appears to be an unlimited resource / free if you don’t care  about  
terms and conditions / just give me space for data / endless bandwidth like wide Wyoming  skies  
to a city kid / here’s a lens / and plentiful battery / let’s catch an all-day high and not care who  witnesses /  
I want to create a document / of shadows that frolic with light / cuts and bodies and silence / no  score  
implied or denied / attention is admission / listen / the story began / to write itself when the film ran  
out  

Note: This poem was written after a screening of Maya Deren films at Comfort Station in Logan Square in 2023.