Screen Dump 583

No, not never . . . the end flashing on the screen

collecting empties from the thems that got

surprised when looking through the wrong end of a telescope

everything . . . and everyone . . . small . . . manageable . . .

Of course, that's when the scene ends

and the midnights elbow in with rewrites . . .

You, under cover, I mean, you, under the covers

replay the drama of rain . . . looking through the glass

as extras plod across . . . Across what? . . .

I dunno, across the moors, how's that? . . .

Did you say you got a callback? . . .

You pulled out the stops to your life as remainder

threw open the drapes . . . Proust-like . . . and now? . . .

Look at the trees at the edge of the world . . . 

They're talking to you . . . recounting the time

you wanted to run . . . go back . . . as we all wish . . .

Am I spinning my wheels here? . . .

Is it all bullshit . . . all window dressing for the camera obscura? . . .

Or are you readying yourself once again to get

into the driver's seat . . . despite the cracked pleather

and transform yourself into a journey

back to the blank page with odysseyites clamoring for more? . . .

Spectators flown in to populate the front row

await assurance . . . and who can blame them? . . .

They've walked the walk of sidewalk days

trying to find the door that you told them would welcome

their penmanship . . . their words . . . within which . . .

Aneta Ivanova

Screen Dump 582

The joy of opening your eyes to the previously unseen

moves you to freefall . . . to cast yourself off . . . oarless . . . 

You traffic in fragmentation . . . savoring the elements

that seem to defy comprehension . . . The exciting almost

of the flight of nearness with you on a bicycle

speeding downhill . . . enjoying the random blundering

in concepts too fine for the timid . . . embracing the inevitable

record of failure . . . of not saying what you want to say

not because you shy away but because words fall short  . . .

Beverly Peel & Tyra Banks

Screen Dump 581

Ghosts of gentle lunatics guide your latest revisions

the irregular folds of happenstance weigh in with blurbs

from spiral-bound collections of origami . . .

Your world has become labyrinthine . . .

You retreat into your altered ego, dreaming yourself

an alien inventorying costumes

in a shabby off-the-grid B&B

brimming with knockoffs of Golden Books

a sort of meta-metaphor for time ill-spent . . .

You await your cue to enter the scene

of a wake . . . half-expecting a downpour but the anonymity of rain

surprises you . . . flooding the reshoot and washing away

the drafty monologues of auditionees . . .

Nina Hoss in Returning to Reims (2018)

Screen Dump 580

The revised ambiance unsettles go-betweens . . .

Many remember overhauls with a sparkling clarity

which seemed to ease their entrance . . .

With so many awaiting callbacks

why bother craning your neck to grab hold? . . .

If only I had an app, I would . . . indeed I would . . .

What's with the smock? . . .

Do you anticipate a splattering of the nonsensical?

a reassignment of metaphor? . . .

Now there's a welcoming conundrum . . .

Of course, without more to go on, it seems as if

the hodgepodgers are in ascendance . . .

Nothing much to add, so you may as well head out . . .

Nina Hoss

Screen Dump 579

A casual craziness-troubling genre

informs your carefully choreographed appearances

the bird's-eye view stuffing your pockets

with to-dos . . . Odysseyites found

in translations wander Commercial Street

among the masked . . .

The lunch hour bottlenecks at the food truck

which sports a new paintjob and new menu

redirecting you back

to your elementary school cafeteria

where you usually sat . . . alone

at a crumb-encrusted table . . .

You manage a wrap . . . then slip back

into seclusion . . . into the solace of words

fabricating fake dramas populated by flâneuses

who take explorations of cities

as their calling . . . and are rewarded

their occasional unstable footing forcing the body

to adapt to a new balance . . . a new world . . .