Cable Movie Poem: Transformers
in this film where spectral effects
pass for substance, the girl’s grime-
smeared face & fingers brighten
& slowly fade-to-white:
pencil thin, a whisper waits
where voice breaks.
light falls across my body,
my beard, my teeth, & ribs,
curling around my rag of flesh—
i hide my face
the glory falls like energy
into the smallest
particles of meaning, alabaster
fingers search me
Low
ghost
in the beginning.
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