swifts  &  s l o w s · a quarterly of crisscrossings

the solitude of morning
Giovanni Boskovich

← back or next →

Cassavetes’ Underpainting

Cassavetes’ unseen
footage is an underpainting,
a spectral presence,
like the first time I noticed
that half-limned woman
in Courbet’s Burial at Ornan
at Musée d’Orsay,
up until that point, undetectable,
in gift-shop postcards,
and reproductions.

Cassavetes could skeletonize
or apotheosize
the everyday in Los Angeles,
right there in his at-home
movie studio,
a Moviola parked
in lieu of a car.

Cherries

Like pits and uneaten cherries
in the same bowl
the detritus of our bad habits
dialogue with our good ones.

Colloquy

the algebra of birds’ wings,
simple yet complex
quotidian like framed needle-point art
hanging there, on the wall,
since time immemorial

i tell my friend,
a physics instructor, Cosmin,
that formulas and brain gestures
pervert nature’s inherent beauty

it all pulls back the curtain,
the rip in the stocking,
big toe peeking out of the sock
to which he replies:
i disagree;
it is nature, Giovanni.

Lavender Tea

She listens to Metal Machine Music
sipping lavender tea,
reading the Sunday paper.

This, she says,
is her way of having space,
the solitude of morning.

She smokes a cigarette—
perhaps two—
then finishes her tea.

← back or next →

Giovanni Boskovich is a poet and educator born and raised in San Pedro, California. He holds an MA in Literature from California State University Dominguez Hills where he published a thesis on Emily Dickinson.   In his free time, he surfs anywhere from Palos Verdes to Mexico.