A little guillotine chops the film
A girl assembles the frames
Into a great pattern, a rose window
Beyond a cloister racked with old hats.
My piano is filled with music
It swallowed the endless toothache
Of love, my coat pockets belch
Scores, minims and crotchets
The sanguineous ink of you.
Soon the main event will commence
The screening of Some Moments When You Were Happy
The orchestra tune up and everyone mutters
Such a concomitance of sound and image!
It is only a hollow warehouse in the rain
White without black is no story
The celluloid flaps endlessly.