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

This is not the place: Perec, the Situationists and Belleville

Karl Whitney

feature

October 2011

I stood near the columbarium at Père Lachaise cemetery. I was there to see the locker-like vault containing the...

fiction

March 2014

The Garden of Credit Analyst Filton

Martin Monahan

fiction

March 2014

Ivan Filton had retired early. ‘I have been working a lot on my garden,’ declared Ivan Filton. ‘This is...

fiction

March 2014

The Nothing on Which the Fire Depends

Micheline Aharonian Marcom

fiction

March 2014

Friday 9 November 2009   The coffee is lukewarm, but she doesn’t mind to drink it this way. She...

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required