WEBVTT 00:00:00.000 --> 00:00:04.140 align:middle line:90% 00:00:04.140 --> 00:00:05.475 align:middle line:90% This poem is called "The Album." 00:00:05.475 --> 00:00:10.500 align:middle line:90% 00:00:10.500 --> 00:00:17.970 align:middle line:84% Oblong, brown, embossed with gilt fleur-de-lis, stiff, 00:00:17.970 --> 00:00:21.750 align:middle line:90% mildewed along the spine. 00:00:21.750 --> 00:00:26.160 align:middle line:84% I opened it to look through the eye of its broken lens. 00:00:26.160 --> 00:00:33.180 align:middle line:84% Clock faces, ancestors, towers of dripping sand, 00:00:33.180 --> 00:00:36.180 align:middle line:84% bloomed halves, torrents of shadow. 00:00:36.180 --> 00:00:39.070 align:middle line:90% 00:00:39.070 --> 00:00:43.270 align:middle line:84% Music pours from the holes in its pages-- 00:00:43.270 --> 00:00:47.740 align:middle line:84% opus, mazurkas, marches, the songs of my uncles, 00:00:47.740 --> 00:00:49.720 align:middle line:84% the songs of the soldiers, my uncles, 00:00:49.720 --> 00:00:54.510 align:middle line:84% who stood at eager and spitting play. 00:00:54.510 --> 00:00:59.030 align:middle line:84% In the hot sun of the album the snapshots fade. 00:00:59.030 --> 00:01:01.760 align:middle line:84% Picnic, the regatta, the wedding in the forest, 00:01:01.760 --> 00:01:05.870 align:middle line:90% and all blanched, all lost. 00:01:05.870 --> 00:01:10.130 align:middle line:84% Last horseman after the album, red eye, 00:01:10.130 --> 00:01:13.490 align:middle line:84% unshaven, they twirl their reatas, 00:01:13.490 --> 00:01:15.980 align:middle line:84% they lean forward on their pommels, 00:01:15.980 --> 00:01:21.080 align:middle line:84% The weeks and days of our lives in their lasso's circle. 00:01:21.080 --> 00:01:25.490 align:middle line:84% While the insolent, taunting, in a crown of cardboard, 00:01:25.490 --> 00:01:30.910 align:middle line:84% the queen of diamonds leans from the album and calls my name. 00:01:30.910 --> 00:01:33.000 align:middle line:90%