• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Skip to footer

MAYDAY

  • Culture
  • Interviews
  • Reviews
  • Nonfiction
    • Contests
  • Translation
  • Fiction
  • Poetry
  • About
    • Submit
      • Contests
      • Contest Winners
      • MAYDAY:Black
    • Open Positions
    • Masthead
    • Contributors

SURREALIST FILM-MAKING by Aditi Machado

October 1, 2010 Contributed By: Aditi Machado

The train is running off track, the air oneiric and chill.
We cut across the forest like thieves. All that derails
is one thread of your scarf – I am dizzy with its unravelling.
How linear it is. Almost absurd, this logic of movement.
The train breaks; the trolley man falls back, burns
his face with coffee. Outside trees commit acrobatics
in the elastic wind. I shoot three scenes with you
by the window. We have blackened out your eyes,
but a strange science is at work: here your pupils
are visible; here your hair flies in with the draught (action-
reaction); and there your skin is so pale we see blood
channel through. I shake my black box. It rattles.
It too works with theorems and will they come apart
if opened?

Return to table of contents for Issue 3 Fall 2010

Filed Under: Poetry Posted On: October 1, 2010

Further Reading

After the Parade by J. R. Longfellow

This was when Carl had two cats. They weren’t his cats. The woman he’d been living with had gone to Colorado for what she called an “indefinite period of time.” Said she’d return when she wrapped her head around what the hell they were doing in Chicago. It was beyond Carl how living in one […]

Coral Bracelets
by Umiyuri Katsuyama, translated from the Japanese by Toshiya Kamei

“We were arguing,” she said. Her eyes felt wide. Her palms were drenched in sweat.
“What?” Her boyfriend grabbed her elbow. He felt like fire. She pulled away. And he looked pale to her. Pale as bones. She smelled smoke. “When?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember.” The incense singed her nose. Everything was aflame. “Wedding invitations?”

Landfill by Sergio Ballouk
(Translated from Portuguese by Julian Cola)

Behold, everybody focus your attention from the truck’s shadow hauling pallets behold the old landfill (extinct for so many years) resurges so does the ravine it resurges lake tin reed an old sieve hawk… people spanning the depths of luck they all resurge I hear brats shouting in high pursuit of the sweet truck the […]

Primary Sidebar

Recently Published

  • Year-End Wrap-Up: The MAYDAY Editors’ Books of the Year, 2022
  • Warrior
    by Lane Falcon
  • Inside the Kaleidoscope
    by Jane O. Wayne
  • Two Poems by Luis Alberto de Cuenca
    translated from the Spanish by Gustavo Pérez Firmat
  • I Hope Your Birthday Is So Beautiful, It Hurts to Look at It
    by Josette Akresh-Gonzales

Trending

  • Eight Contemporary Female Irish Artists to Fall In Love With Immediately
    by Aya Kusch
  • Warrior
    by Lane Falcon
  • Sellouts 1970: Love Story: The Year a Screenplay-Turned-Novel Almost Broke the National Book Award
    by Kirk Sever
  • George Saunders on A Swim in a Pond in the Rain
    by Brianna Di Monda
  • I Hope Your Birthday Is So Beautiful, It Hurts to Look at It
    by Josette Akresh-Gonzales
  • Year-End Wrap-Up: The MAYDAY Editors’ Books of the Year, 2022
  • This field is for validation purposes and should be left unchanged.

Footer

  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Twitter

Business


Reprint Rights
Privacy Policy
Archive

Engage


Open Positions
Donate
Contact Us

Copyright © 2023 · New American Press

  • This field is for validation purposes and should be left unchanged.