DESCRIPTION:
An animated interpretation of "Anemic Cinema" (1926, Marcel Duchamp) using original 10-frame rotorelief designs replaced by concrete poetry.

Music by Micka Luna: www.mickaluna.com
Text from the book 'Eternal Story' (2011).
Voice, video & concrete poetry by H.M. Metzger


Eternal Story

I remember your face
in that candlelit Peruvian place,
on a Lake Erie ferry,
by the boathouse,
atop a lighthouse,
in a field of horses-
the sun shining brightly
onto white picket fences,
in front of the bodega-
neon signs illuminating a profile
of you.
Venetian cobbled footpaths-
hand-in-hand-
us, we, you, me.
On the Brooklyn Bridge,
the Golden Gate-
your face telling me "goodbye."
No words,
just parting eyes.
A candlelit canal-side room
where we consummated
the end of our story
on yet another birthday.
A forged Berlin bracelet,
a ring, a promise,
a sentiment,
a song from your lips,
from the stage to my ears.
A Market Street sidewalk
made into our bed,
a lamppost casting shadow
on our love.
A Gratz Park Hotel room,
my parents' bedroom,
your flat in London,
a Paris hostel.
Your fiancé's picture frames,
a rotated crucifix,
my grandmother's rosary-
all hidden from view.
A convertible under the stars,
a man-made beach,
lying beside a bonfire-
shifting sand, clasping hands.
A Palladian villa playground,

Swinging...
Swinging...

Scarpa's grave
and a tear in your eye.
The Colosseo in Verona-
kissing behind stone walls
of the city's gates
where Romeo and fair Juliet
also had their fateful end.
A Capuccin cemetery-
bones, skulls, decrepit bodies
surrounded by Rome's death
and yet another end.
A crowded Eurorail train-
finding our place
to say "goodbye" again.
Our apartment-
shattered picture frames,
shattered dreams.
Our first date,
too late
for your new love affair.
An expired Green Card,
a kiss, a flight,
a final trek to Grimaldi's
and you're in London,
married.
Your Oxford life,
our adulterated strife,
a phone call
unanswered.

What if...
What if...

Your mother's death,
your best friend's suicide,
your California dreaming.
My occupation,
labor's consequence,
my father's denial,
one last spin of the bottle.
Time lapse, timelessness,
a wish for more
memories.
Wide-eyed wonder, hope,

teaching,
learning,
seeking,
burning,

all in preparation
for that final hour.
"I loved you.
You loved me too.
We did the best
that we could do..."
and so it goes.
Unfettered, pure
love that was real.
I will never forget you
as you have composed
one bar, one enduring note
in my life's song.
You are there forever.
Thank you.

When the symphony
finally collaborates,
when the woodwinds
meet the strings in time,
they will know
that I was yours,
that you were mine.
They'll play our song and cry
of joy, of effort, of pain,
our rhythm, our rhyme-
beautiful hymns of love,
our poetry,
our Eternal Story.