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Eclipse Facsimile It is cheaper than sitting for a portrait: The Xerox shakes out a picture— but of what presence? An iron stove with heat waves tressing it. This is a face, perhaps. Or perhaps it has seen behind her face. Had it worked, she'd be urging others to try it, too, lay a cheek on the windowplate, make a jacket a blind. Five cents gets a roller of light and a shudder. But anyone will show up sooty, like a mud puddle kicked, or an ancient rubbing. When she and her partner step out for the sun, people huddle on every curb. Each crowd has two sheets of paper to tip and space. Over the south sky a tin-colored shadow cuts and cools mobs gathering around projectionists: Crescents, all from one branding iron, burn the center of each camp. She takes her gray portrait from her friend's hand, stings it with a pin, 9 10 / ONE: PORTRAYALS and lenses the eclipse down onto his flat, shaded stomach. . . . As it darkens, everyone is happy, faces glow. The sun has drawn the one forbidden place to look on places closest to us. As many times as the page will hold holes, she makes a beam come through to him. But is that image the sun? Is each one? Can anyone keep loving it so?When is it rare? Copies are everywhere. ...


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Related ISBN
MARC Record
Launched on MUSE
Open Access
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