Week 18: Text: Poem by screenwriter Charles Bloom

JULIET[1]

Your counterfeit corpse

Bought brief passage through long night

Away from family and title.

But on the hour’s other shore

You woke to find your falsehood right:

In Romeo’s blood your fraud’s writ still.

You do not die. I don't believe

That down, you followed him,

Sepulchral steps forlorn.

On the threshold where we grieve,

You wait, our tears collecting to the brim,

Upon a constant tide of longing born.

We write you pseudonymed again,

And line for miles through city streets

Aspiring maidens to accommodate you.

Of you the palimpsest will ne’er be cleansed.

The rhythm of your heart the ritual drum beats.

Sacred, monstrous Juliet, I hate you!

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[1] This poem was written on the cover page of the film’s shooting script and found pinned to the door of its producer the morning principle photography began, June 12^th, 1920. Bloom was not seen or heard from again.