Annie Leibovitz pulls off a Tintoretto that beatifies
Penelope Tuesdae into the straight-up daemon she is –
her vaudeville legs would pole-vault a troop of drunken cops
& her fur-lined coat borders taut, evanescent hips, rising, up
to where the carmine lapels power a dangerous chiaroscuro
as her thumbs tuck under black that plugs further black
and vanishes far beyond the picture’s end.
bluer <= Tim Keane