House: Attic Scene, The Birds, Alfred Hitchcock, 1963
Shield your face, but not
for the brightness. I am only asking you
to comply.
You are you, I am I, the line
is the line. It exists because you, it exists
because I. It exists the birds
cover. They know no other.
When it was over she was covered
in scrapes they covered her, they
carried her down
It continued for days.
You ascend to investigate.
I have no one to shoot.
If you shoot down a certain bird it
will only fall towards you. If you look
into the sun it will only look back.
It was not theater. He offered you a gold pin
with three birds ascending.
An infinite line
does not migrate, it does not
converge.
We are the theater.
We know where to find
our light. Among the slats and feathers,
they scatter. You're tethered
we cannot see that you
cannot see that if the birds
are the shadow that exits to
consume the house
what will be left of it?
What will be left of the town,
of a theater
when the screen goes dark?
Find the point on the infinite line. Look up at me I will look back.
Denise Jarrott's work has appeared or is forthcoming in CutBank, The Volta, Gigantic Sequins, Bat City Review, and elsewhere. She lives in Colorado.