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The Angels of Film

Eyes. Eyes. They are the eyes

that feed on children in the sun,

on brides, birds, grandmothers, stars.

They’re always there, loaded revolvers

blinking too loudly at parties, shooting

at smiling faces with more vengeance

than crime or conscience. They capture

our gestures, helpless in their sight,

just to prove the past or present real.

We were children, once; beneath this

face there is another we have never

wanted. Our bodies just keep going,

developing reproductions of ourselves.

Our souls are prisoners of eyes forever.

from A. Poulin, Jr. Selected PoemsFind it in the library

Copyright © 2001 A. Poulin Jr.
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of BOA Editions LTD.

Published in A. Poulin Jr. Poems

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