Dollhouse Windows

Dollhouse Windows

 

There’s a tree beside my apartment building

that dies early every August, before anything else,

 

& sometimes a dollhouse

on the curb by the garbage;

 

an ugly dollhouse, with beautiful windows,

stained-glass windows—

 

no: not glass but a good imitation—

 

The way certain murderers

can blend in with the crowd:

 

unremarkable among faces in the group photo,

or speeding by in cars as I cross the Pulaski Bridge,

 

or behind me in the revolving door,

 

I in one glass chamber & they in the other—

 

like the Nazi in the movie fleeing a beautiful country

to retrieve his stash of diamonds: crossing a river,

he’s disguised as a hooded woman, a peasant.

 

Above the boat, other migrations:

birds, monarch butterflies.

As though nothing stationary could survive.

 

A monsoon of rain,

the elements moving toward his house,

 

& the window the monarchs cling to,

in the monsoon—

 


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One Reply to “Dollhouse Windows”

  1. The last part of this poem was inspired by a scene from the movie Marathon Man (1976; dir. John Schlesinger). Disguised as a peasant woman, Laurence Olivier’s character–a diamond-smuggling Nazi–escapes from his hiding place. There is a shot of monarch butterflies clinging to a window, in a heavy rainstorm. “Monsoon” is license on my part; Olivier’s Nazi is living in South America, not Southeast Asia.

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