Sunday, July 31, 2016

Screen Dump 304

The choreography of the day carries you into the second act
where backstage lighting
showcases the incidental props of dreams . . .
soundtracked by furniture music . . .
Why incidental? . . .
With time, the stuff of days folds into itself
leaving you naked in a one-way mirror . . .
on a one-way street . . .
The Street of Crocodiles . . .
hidden behind a bookcase
in a one-night stand's double-wide . . .
Entrapment follows the magician's wand . . .
awaiting orphans
who continue to grapple with self-checkout machines in Walmart . . .
carts brimmed with hand-me-downs . . .
The flavors pale . . .
You skip the rest of the chapter . . .
grasping at straws
as if the opening of the exhibit
exchanged vows with non-presidential candidates
in this Olympic Year . . .


Thursday, July 28, 2016

Screen Dump 303

No whiteness (lost) is so white as the memory / of whiteness.
          - William Carlos Williams, The Descent

You try to retrieve a dissonant melody
but the street lights
bobbing in the turbulent wake
fade to shadows . . .
afterimages displacing the memory of your odyssey
and its players . . .
You enter the fray . . . with delicacies
and become a vessel for happenstance . . .
This of course is as it was . . .
Time sprouts ears . . .
The abundant pronouns of your close encounters
upend the entanglements . . .
your free throws . . . Made-for-TV-Moments . . .
fill several subfolders . . .
as the magician's hand plummets into a bell jar . . .

Paulina Otylie Surys




Friday, July 22, 2016

Searching for Bobby Fischer: A Prose Poem in 13 Days

(reposted from Wednesday, May 11, 2011)

Day 1

My friend's cat, Bobby Fischer, is missing.
He took off without leaving a note
without taking his food dish.
We're worried about the food dish.
It sits in the corner all day
twiddling its thumbs
thinking about Bobby Fischer.

Day 2

My friend and I hail a cab.
The cabbie misunderstands us.
He takes us to a Rotary meeting.
The final vote is being tallied
on whether or not to airlift a causeway.
The causeway is cause for concern.
Some Rotarians feel it's water under the bridge.
One Rotarian recalls seeing Bobby Fischer
walking along the causeway
earlier in the week
seemingly preoccupied.

Day 3

The man at Kinko's has crooked teeth.
My guess is he knows something about Bobby Fischer.
He scans a recent photo of Bobby Fischer.
We attach it to a sheet of white paper.
We consider captioning it Desperately Seeking Bobby Fischer
but settle instead on Searching for Bobby Fischer.
The man with crooked teeth says he likes it.
He makes 110 copies but only charges us for 100.
He says he knows how we feel.
I don't trust him.

Day 4

We divide up the posters and plaster the neighborhood.
Several passersby comment on Bobby Fischer's good looks.
A few pocket posters as souvenirs.
One old man draws a mustache on Bobby Fischer.
We call the police.

Day 5

The message on my friend's answering machine is garbled.
Something about a round robin.

Day 6

Bobby Fischer has done this before
only to return a few days later
reeking of catnip and stale mates.

Day 7

Bobby Fischer calls.
He says he's been thinking about making a move.
He says he has enrolled in a method acting class.
He wants to throw himself wholeheartedly into something.
He wants to bring real life to the boards.
To forget himself.
To give his mind and body to a fictitious character.
My friend and I nod knowingly.
We hand the phone to Bobby Fischer's food dish.

Day 8

We bump into Bobby Fischer's acting coach in the library.
He's taking out a book on gambits.
He tells us that Bobby Fischer will be using
a little known gambit on opening night.
He's rather defensive for a Sicilian.
He gives us two tickets.
I don't trust him.

Day 9

Opening night.
We're packed in like sardines.
Bobby Fischer is loaded with greasepaint.
He plays a bishop who's sacrificed.
The klieg lights make him blink.

Day 10

The play receives rave reviews in the Post.

Day 11

Bobby Fischer calls.
He wants us to pick up extra copies of the Post.
He says the play is being made into a television miniseries
which will air during ratings week.
He says he has to go.
Oprah's limo is waiting.

Day 12

Bobby Fischer calls.
His voice is shaking.
He says the television producer, Boris Spassky,
decided to cut his part
in view of the current crisis in the Catholic Church.
He says Boris Spassky told him the Church
has enough problems right now.

Day 13

The doorbell rings.
It's Bobby Fischer.
He's back.
He smells of catnip.
His fur is matted with dried greasepaint.
His backpack is stuffed with dog-eared copies of the Post.
His food dish brims.


Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Screen Dump 302

If they can do it, I can do it.
          - Anon

It's all about leveling the playing field, yes? . . .
sidebars . . .
late-night Ubers . . .
categorizing narratives by color . . .
insinuating yourself into the after-hours . . .
asking recording engineers . . . session musicians . . .
character actors . . .
about the nuances . . . and blueness
of your voice . . .
Finding that most people's favorite painting
is a blue landscape . . .
with Miles . . . in an atelier . . . noodling . . .
Kind of Blue . . . a mantra . . .
while others step up to the plate . . .
order takeout . . .
a crapshoot . . . nonetheless . . .
You were abandoned . . . more than once . . .
testing your belief in . . . what? . . . magic? . . .
But aren't we all at times duped
by an illusion of our own making . . .
tweaking the script to straddle happenstance
in positions construed as ballet . . .
even on those days that seem to unfold as planned? . . .

Marcin Szpak

Saturday, July 2, 2016

Screen Dump 301

And so I fell in love with a color . . .
          - Maggie Nelson, Bluets

Your costume as rhetorical fiction . . . as illicit . . .
as maddeningly blue . . .
where in earlier chapters, you fell in love with retraction . . .
taking back what you offered . . . teasing . . .
as you considered the fast lane in a trailer park . . .
with rules for engagement for understudies
afflicted with acyanoblepsia . . .
the inability to see blue . . . You know this . . .
and have managed to derail your obsession . . .
Your next move . . . as witness to the beginning . . .
the middle . . . the pleasure principle . . .
first slow . . . then . . . faster . . .
with eyes and mouth half open . . .
in front of a mirror . . . as penetration of privacy, yes? . . .
This morning at the breakfast table . . .
your blue eyes mapped your next strategem . . .
imagining blue skies . . . and blue waters . . .
a blue room . . . in a blue hotel . . . as if like Stein
you believe every bit of blue is precocious . . .

Marcin Szpak