Scratches in the celluloid / show a frame-rate / his mind shown / in the quick tilt
of his head / as he observes a painting / the black-and-white print of his face /
shaking / taking a long drag / at his desk / hand scribbling in a blur / too distant
to be focused on / he reads his poem / eyes drawn down / as if we can no longer
see him / focused clearly / on his words / lens focused on his face / a break-away /
camera pointed out the window / panning / naked trees behind a fence / his voice
reading over / You see, you hold me up to the light in a way I should never have expected, or suspected,
perhaps because you always tell me I am you / reappearing into frame / walking along a
New York City street / hands in his pockets / he can see us / he stops and turns / looks
directly into / what is our eyes / disappears again / out of frame / this man looking like
any man / cut back / to his desk / little compartments / typewriter / unused envelopes /
unfinished poems / a plate full of ash
After USA: Poetry (Episode 10) Kenneth Koch & John Ashbery (1966)
*Italicized line is from Ashbery’s poem, “A Blessing in Disguise”
Lawrence Di Stefano is a Best New Poets and a Best of the Net nominated writer. His poems can be found in Columbia Journal, Salt Hill, Waxwing, Southern Humanities Review, Tupelo Quarterly, Willow Springs, RHINO, and elsewhere. He holds an MFA in poetry from San Diego State University and is co-editor of poetry at The Los Angeles Review. He is currently working on his debut collection. Find him at www.lawrencedistefano.com