The glass is cold. The glass sweats. Water tingles down a
bottle. Collecting others in its path. Collecting weight.
Rampaging in silence. Tumbling down. Circling water on a table.
Square. Black around the edges. Thin and transparent. The light
arcs. Stringing trajectories from ships at sea. Green and bright
anger. Green and bright longing. Green and bright disgust.
Exploding from a deck. Fuel packed and punching.
He drinks a beer. He drinks a beer and gnaws the end of a
salami. He drinks a beer and gnaws the end of a salami and
thinks about his brother. His brother isnít over there. His
brother isnít obligated to anything. His brother runs a forklift
in a warehouse. He thinks about how his brother drank all but
three of his twelve pack.
It is a still shot. Buildings with cupolas. Tops like hats.
White against darkness. Night vision shows green but standard
film shows orange and yellow and fluming white. Green and orange
and yellow and white. And they all hit targets beyond the
buildings. Beyond their hats. Beyond the cameraís reach. And up
up up goes the smoke and the people and the pointedness.
From so far away points are irrelevant.
Here the beer sweats and water trips down the smooth curve of