There seems to be a disparity . . . the images fragmented . . .
the lighting off . . .
and now you're squinting . . . at the camera . . .
trying to clarify the choreography of the odyssey . . .
He/she presented with a revised script . . .
and a smattering of masks . . .
You balk at the masks . . . and sketch an alternative . . .
The dialogue begins . . . off-cue . . .
and does its best to preempt the confusion
which is fogging the lenses . . .
The scene is re-shot with filters . . .
a waste of time . . . nothing seems to be working today . . .
Perhaps the reason is buried in the footnotes . . .
along with your memorandum of understanding . . .
How ill-equipped (unprepared?) . . .
especially now with an albatross as metaphor . . .
In this poem you are all artifice . . . the language frayed . . .
the letters of introduction misfiled . . .
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| Anka Zhuravleva |