Guillotine

A piece from my Postmodernism class — another assignment where we were asked to use a specific set of words centered around our individual areas of “expertise” (in my case, this was film production).


guillotine

I met Charlie Chaplin in a landfill.

He seemed shaken to his core, tangled in the

skin of a gas filled blimp that had shriveled up

and blanketed the earth in sound some time before.

 

His lips hung canted, and with muted smirk

he eyed an apple box full of heads

which spoke all at once about the temperate

sky of colors, and other worries of the dead.

 

It was hard to see through the edging fog

that sulked thickly over the depths of the field –

it seeped like honey down the perforations of

the giant’s back, resentful of man’s continuity.

 

Behind me, a tuft of earth had been cut away,

where Kubrick had dug a trench and made

a careless shelter from a moldy barn door

and grumbled at some candles by his feet.

 

A wild sound came from above and beneath,

and I thought I heard Charlie’s voice fade

into the crunching of cans and cranking

of scrap – “Please, Recycle!” he squawked.