share


The Cinematographer, a 42-year-old man named Miyagawa, aimed his camera directly at the sun, which at first probably seemed like a bad idea

Last night Kurosawa’s woodcutter

strode through the forest, his axe

on his shoulder. Intense sunlight

stabbed and sparkled and

was generally dazzling.

 

A few centuries later, in a hundred

different coffeehouses, another man

had his big black art glasses on.

It almost looked like there were no

lenses in them.


ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTOR

is an American poet from Livingston, Montana. He is the author of Can You Relax in My House, Yes, Master, and Thin Kimono.

READ NEXT

feature

October 2011

The White Review No.3 Editorial

The Editors

feature

October 2011

In the course of putting three issues of The White Review together, the editors have been presented with the...

Art

July 2012

Interview with Ben Rivers

Alice Hattrick

Art

July 2012

Ben Rivers is an artist who makes films. Two Years at Sea, his first feature-length film, was released to...

poetry

September 2011

The Cinematographer, a 42-year-old man named Miyagawa, aimed his camera directly at the sun, which at first probably seemed like a bad idea

Michael Earl Craig

poetry

September 2011

Last night Kurosawa’s woodcutter strode through the forest, his axe on his shoulder. Intense sunlight stabbed and sparkled and...

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required