vii. millions of eyes, henning
dear henning,
i wonder if in germany you ever watch old american
gangster films. in them, everything is heavy … cars,
telephones, and radios. in them, men take unexpected
taxi rides, light streaked across their faces so we can
know their full intent.
before they ever leave, they tell their women they ve
gotten themselves in a jam, or they must collect the
dough, and they ll be back shortly.
often, they re shot at the base of stairs, at entrances to
buildings that were meant to save them.
when their women hear the knock on the door, a
violin plays. the women pause, sequins on their
clothes sparkling like millions of eyes.
the women open the door and say …
come in, i ve been waiting for you.
*Theresa Williams’ work has appeared or will appear soon in many magazines, including Chattahoochee Review, Hunger Mountain, Midwestern Gothic, Danse Macabre, and The Sun. Her novel, The Secret of Hurricanes was a finalist for the Paterson Fiction Prize. She has a husband, dogs, and cats, and stays up late at night, writing.
Theresa says: “millions of eyes, henning” is part vii of series of epistolary prose poems called “the eternal network” (which is what the mailart community calls itself). The poem was sent through the mail to a man in Germany, a complete stranger I met on a mailart site, called Henning and was accompanied by mailart.