Poem Written after Alison Rossiter’s Haloid Platina, exact expiration date unknown, ca. 1915, processed in 2007

by Mischelle Anthony

Photo credit: New York Public Library Digital Collections

It’s clever, this photograph of a processed
photograph rendered too late, an abstract cloud of
dust.  
O tornado caught in time, O funnel cloud of
barn planks and grime, your boundaries 
symmetrical, liquid, smooth as the red 
​wine glass that we never put in 
the dishwasher. That I did, though, 
last evening: force the bulb against 
the pale not-quite-sky blue, thrill 
at the *thunk* as rubber spikes hover 
above the washer door and its viscous  
finger-y drips, factory special white as  
photo paper, white as the noise,  
the buzz of the vintage 
radio behind every song 
and newscast we choose  
to hear instead of each other.