One night the very sky opened up above;
And there was the projector for my whole life~
Spinning and whirring away thru the reels,
Mad black and white inkblots did the tango
Frames displaying in a choppy too-fast stream.
And the dead moved through those movies too,
Trapped forever in two dimensions
I hope the film doesn't break before it's time-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love the off-wall-ness of this!