E P I S O D E E P I S O D E by CAMILO ROLDAN
Lost in the plot hole between them, each episode with garlands steps out of television set into the sight of trees unwinding, sheds bark and becomes a woman as naked as Pygmalionâ€™s work, the making-of alive. He grabs a subject, an episode, holds it at arms length, draws a line back to himself and releases a shaft.
All things picturesque in a summer dress, sentimental jazz in bed or fried zucchini for dinner. Beach-ball pastels color the planet where we grew as tendrils, television lit. You were a green woman dancing toward me. I was a green woman PHOTO by Gâ€™NAT