Immoral Memories 1

A morass of memories begun in a Paris cafe in 1895, a side-tracked train from the mother’s womb, mewing and puking its own history by the light of Dr. Frankenstein’s lamp. A history of cinema as twilight sleep, a shroud for the entr’acte between birth and history. A horse embraced as the last act of an active mind falling to sleep, ushering in the new century.