Hitchcock's Circles
not just him, a symphony of
circles but the hole in the
roof in The Birds, in the
eye sockets, in the mouth
shaped in terror. All his
black holes, voids. The
circle head of the flashlight,
the hole in the fence. Was
it a hole of emptiness?
Or the O or O sounds in
Psycho or Vertigo and
Rear Window? The O of
the Erotica symphony
played in the background?
Menacing circles going
berserk? The crazy merry
go rounds? Or the phono-
graph in Psycho? That center
hole of a circular disk,
the circular label on some
circular table. Suddenly
signs, like the black shadows
of the birds circling. Not
surprising that Hitchcock
said he was frightened of
eggs, that white round thing
without any holes. Have
you seen anything more
revolting than an egg yolk
breaking and spilling its
yellow liquid? he gasped,
blood is jolly, red. But egg
yolk is yellow, revolting.
I’ve never tasted it.
Lyn Lifshin
If
you have any comments on this poem, Lyn Lifshin would be
pleased to hear from you.
