6

Elisa Juri

Said

 

said maybe it’s good you’re not seeing anyone
said but what’s your bliss
said I think you need a purpose, somewhere where you wanna go.
said get yourself a good headset, a noise-cancelling one
said things I understand, things that I don’t
said Morpheus, strange digits
said shouldn’t you be working on your film
said how many winters, how many springs
said fotos de Lisa a las 4 de la madrugada
said they let their wings down
said haiku

said you should write about it
said I wanted to talk about it
said timeline, and emphasized the word line
said the right hand was sometimes used as the left one, and vice versa
said she had laughter
said I think you would love it
said after a while, it wouldn’t matter
said that’s exhausting
said do you have grass?
said I was a coward, then lit a cigarette
said her words fell over
said things about his father, then said the same things
said looking at flowers
said I’m doing good
said all points of view are valid
said you gotta know your numbers
said we know so little about those far-away countries
said that vastness
said the title takes form in that scene
said it’s nice to see someone insisting
said my dream was a thriller
said something open is aperture
said is your film autobiographical?
said if you have time
said they are laws and they take time
said goodbye – then he waved: see you on new year’s, and made a face.
Amsterdam Centraal

then I remember the times I thought I was going to die
and all I could think of
was the caliber
of stupidity in which
days go by.
Movies I later forget,
rolling plastic hand-luggage
napkins, and crumpled up packages
on the floor at the edge of the bed
boarding cards as bookmarks
headphones tangled around the small amethyst
wood-shavings and graphite
faces that slide past
like the title sequence of Shadows, 1959
and not saying I love you
and not saying I miss you.

 


Elisa Juri (b. 1991) is a filmmaker and writer, graduated from Universidad del Cine in Buenos Aires, who further studied an MFA in Film at HFBK Hamburg, with director Angela Schanelec. She lives and works in Hamburg, developing a collective writing practice focused on Film called Lunar Journals.