Transcript

Panel 1: Title panel. A collage of tree branches against the sky at night. The text says, “Anatomy of a night.”
Panel 2: Bare leafless branches shining in streetlight against a night sky. A poem spread out on the panel says: “You devour the sky and I polish my fingernails. Fear, a repulsive person. Foot chained to the
ground, you run. Fade, before I die, you say. Noisy night, bass drum, a monotone, a constant misinformation, a non interruption. purple fur ball that behind you. Does it regard you highly, or is it afraid?”
Panel 3: New leaves springing on a branch shining against the night sky. The text says, “A season’s decision. To leave the bed, To slowly open its eyes. To hear and not listen. To be it’s own savior. Hands
folded old grumpy man. You’ll throw your arms up. You’d like to be a fish. But first you’ll need to know. Do fish swim more often than they flow? You’ll not say which one you prefer.”
Panel 4: Buds on an otherwise bare tree shining against the night sky. The text says, “A hundred hands and a hundred more finger hands. Apathy. I see you. Who are you? You have eaten too much. Push the air out of your windpipe. Tell it a lie. Don’t ever admit it was a lie. Be stubborn. Be narcissistic. Before your voice is devoured by the finger hands.”
Panel 5: Blurred out branches spread out on the panel visible against a faded sky. The text says: You say a prayer. You say it in letters, in broken syllables. You make sure it’s comprehensible. You fold it and
hang it on to a cherry tree. You know it has probably reached. A to-do folder. An assistant’s folder. Who has forgotten. Forgotten. Forgotten. White cherry. Raw cherry. You wake next morning and it is gone. Was it the wind? Was it God?”