Screen Dump 74

Eloping with a plastic horse in the not-too-distant future . . .
Nights of entrepreneurial fantasies . . . and bone-dust . . .
the morality police on doughnut break . . .
Finding yourself mired in old habits? . . .
Perhaps you should cut back . . . on the insinuations . . .
the invocations . . . the intrusions . . .
on your propensity for clipping coupons . . .
from the flyers blizzarding the stairwell . . . lawsuits swooping down . . .
Yes, retreat to your domesticity . . .
to your panoply of impressions . . .
little-girl-lost . . . dominatrix . . . intermediary . . .
single-malted . . . primed for rewrite . . .
Forget the bed-head . . .
Your optic nerve knows better than anyone . . .
Including the homebrew crew . . . most of whom have become homebound . . .
paying the Joker . . . for box-lunch time-outs . . .
waiting to deplane . . . and begin . . . again . . .
As the mind gently bloats . . . it will all come into focus . . .

Paolo Roversi

Screen Dump 73

But you said M-E-T-A-P-H-Y-S-I-C-A-L . . .
with hurricane asides . . . and aspirin(g) temps . . .
Not to be duped . . .
Not to feel the pressure of the curtain call . . .
Categorizing thumbnails . . . surreptitiously . . .
Then posting to Facebook . . .
Some have been retrieved . . . recycled . . . rekindled, even! . . .
A brief history of machines, yes? . . .
Awaiting your signature . . .
Your dreams of boredom in the present moment . . .
A cavalcade of tenses . . .
Speaking-in-tongues . . . for those without a voice . . .
Fondling your depression . . . as if tweaking . . .

Paolo Roversi

Screen Dump 72

You've muted the video . . . chugged a Red Bull . . .
pressed Stoner  into hands-a-plenty . . .
In the thrall of the latest, yes? . . .
Distracting us from the anguish of our inner lives? . . .
The anguish of Days of Our Lives? . . .
Many prefer the heaven of a false religion . . .
I've tired of color-coding the hours of pumped-iron . . .
P90X-ing away the mood swings . . .
Alternating subtleties with highlighting . . .
Tweet the food network . . . for closure . . . and retribution . . .

Screen Dump 71

The enchanting cosmos . . . of the dressing room . . .
The ultimate in gymnastics . . .
angularities . . . contours . . . convolutions . . .
Noodling as movement . . . as improvisation . . .
as just plain winging-it . . .
Rearranging (?) molecules . . .
unveiling sights, sounds, tastes . . . with your bag of tricks . . .
your enigmatic coat of arms . . . your magic . . .
Mixing the now . . . piece . . . by piece . . . by piece . . .
Everyone a star-struck star . . .
Everyone a closet something-or-other . . .
The show to go on . . . with or without . . .

Cabaret (2014)

Screen Dump 70

Trafficking in embellishments . . . to enhance palatability? . . .
As a CIA grad in checkered chef pants . . .
Providing expert testimony on condiments . . .
You have discovered the power of the tongue . . .
This . . . a delightful sidebar . . .
How often to get the maximum benefit (nodding off in the corner)? . . .
Sublimation: A User's Guide . . .
DJ'ing at your favorite club . . . dismissing quandaries . . .
There will be hell to pay . . .
Pesky offshoots . . . hacked . . .
Think backgammon . . . or Parcheesi . . .
You have linked the rulebook to memory sites . . .
Flagging Step 1 through Step X . . .
Jotting notes in reverse script . . . imagining the mirror . . .
and the surface . . . and the convolutions . . . of the body . . .

Screen Dump 69

The body below the surface . . . as deep . . . deeper . . . deepest . . .
Tracing the image . . . in hieroglyphics . . .
Your seductions . . . the beauty of the gesture . . .
Walking . . . as if no one . . . or everyone . . . is listening . . .
Interrogating the rain . . . to find solace . . .
in fortune's half-smile . . .
in the choral singing wafting in . . . sotto voce . . .
Outwardly . . . everything copacetic . . .
The feeble attempt to escape . . .
Your long arms . . . a semaphore . . . signaling . . .
from an archaeological dig . . . where too much has been unearthed . . .
As if, yes, I too . . . have been victimized . . .

Paolo Roversi

Screen Dump 68

Low-flying incubi . . . slip past your naiveté . . .
morphing into anonymous flights of fantasy . . .
through back-door labyrinths . . . costumed . . . non-forwarding . . .
clubbing . . . with hometown favorites . . .
who off-nights blow town . . .
leaving you stringing memories into necklaces of prayer beads . . .
You have re-upped for a tour of Facebook . . .
with interim partners . . . slotted for make-believe . . .
Bless me, Father, for I have . . .
again . . . and again . . . and again . . .

Paolo Roversi

Screen Dump 67

The marks on the floor designate your movements . . .
There are marks on the floor designating your movements . . .
The marks on the floor . . . are they your movements? . . .
The rationale will become as clear as the marks . . .
Just play along, yes? . . .
OK, I understand ties that bind . . .
Seriously, though . . . with bated breath . . .
You assumed the role . . . embraced it? . . . for how many years? . . .
Next time . . . follow the script . . . to the letter, as it were . . .
To the letter writer . . . if need be . . .
To the underwriter . . . bankrolling your role . . .
To the undercurrent . . . carrying you to secret rooms . . .
brimming with autoeroticisms . . .
Really? . . . Can you tell the difference . . . once you're seized? . . .

Paolo Roversi

Screen Dump 66

You try to tease a narrative out of the earwormed tune . . .
Putting words to music, yes? . . .
His/her words . . .
Materializing late at night . . . keeping you up . . .
The failed metric . . .
Running the numbers . . .
Naming things . . . to possess them . . .
Morphed into a diorama . . .
With you as principal unprincipled player . . .
Cutting the Gordian knot . . . binding the two . . .
Leaving you speechless at checkout . . .
The inevitable pileup . . .
You penned the lines . . . then lost them . . .
They're here . . . somewhere . . .
They have to be . . .
You can't help but search . . .
for meaning, hidden intentions, what have you . . .
And still at it, yes? . . .

Screen Dump 65

Unread pages fly past . . . corners folded . . .
How could you have missed so many? . . .
Element collectors thin the air . . . with regrets . . .
small, medium, large . . . extra large . . .
Periodically, a table is turned . . .
the adjacency sputtering search engines . . .
Your past . . . appears at the door . . .
costumed . . . and ready . . .
Reshoot the desktop scene . . . x+1 times . . .
For the fun of it, yes? . . .
Little will happen inside the Russian novel . . .
that has not already happened . . . to you . . .
You hop on your tricycle, backpedal . . . stall for time . . .
preparing your opening . . .
You have 60 seconds . . .

Paolo Roversi

Screen Dump 64

Trying to get it all down . . .
The people . . . artificially illuminated . . . barely moving . . .
awash with languor . . .
Continents apart . . . but not estranged . . .
You know the feeling . . .
Obsessively bookish . . . in sumptuous robes . . .
The Jaguar XJS . . . strumming gloomily along the boulevard . . .
answering retro prayers . . .
in the order they were received . . .
converting them to vinyl . . .
for custom turntables . . . and such . . .
This is all part of immortality, yes? . . .
You are here . . . now . . . later . . . where? . . .

Tilda Swinton  in Only Lovers Left Alive (2014)

Screen Dump 63

You worry portraiture in an age of abstraction . . .
The narrative . . . reductive . . . unreliable . . .
omitting the minor albeit valuable occlusions . . .
as in the convenience of a convenience store . . .
Irrevocably ascertainable . . .
Yes, include that in your little purple moleskin . . .
You have erased all nuance with your prefigured reportage . . .
What to do now? . . .
Not nearly as obscure or unnoticed . . .
Your world as being ever-so-slightly askew . . .
Have you attracted big names to your stable? . . .
Hand-held cameras, by all means! . . .
You ended it, after encouraging multiple interpretations . . .
with your carefully orchestrated texts . . .
Intimidation feeds trashing, yes? . . .
Nonetheless, you remain a perspicacious analyst . . .
At least in your electra glide in blue eyes . . .

Hailey Clauson

Screen Dump 62

You find zodiacal fantasies intriguing . . .
the creepy violins . . .
the dowagers with heads full of strangers . . .
There are 20 people at this table . . .
name-tagged and color-coded . . .
Who are they? . . .
Why are they here? . . .
The game of chance . . . out the door . . .
You picture your dream house . . .
and hope that he/she will agree . . .
The building codes are like Mary Magdalene . . .
They require a full head of steam . . .
Strange but you could swear . . .
you've been here before . . .
Your feet seem to know their way around . . .
even in these tight shoes . . .
which you regret wearing . . .
Outside, the moon keeps getting bigger . . .
Soon it will threaten the oldest members . . .
of the household . . . who drink tea . . .
out of complimentary Census cups . . .
You've had some great tutors in your time . . .
kindly attentive in their ministrations . . .
and hope they will hear of your admiration . . .

Paulina Otylie Surys

Screen Dump 61

Your advanced degrees in truthiness . . .
blow away the competition . . .
Picnicking at this stage may be iffy . . . but what the hell . . .
When Reveille sounds . . .
Where will you be? . . .
Where will I be? . . .
Where will we be? . . .
Pick one . . .
Moments like these arrive . . . ever so flimsily . . .
And do not hang . . . trust me . . .
Please don't trot out those timeworn harbingers . . .
You have more important ___ to ___ . . .
You owe it to yourself . . .
And to the memory of your shades of gray . . .
In the mirror with your multiple personalities . . .

Paolo Roversi

Screen Dump 60

Arresting in your DIY raingear . . .
Talking . . . then not . . .
About the uninformed . . .
Searching for gold rings from childhood carousels . . .
You flick a match . . . geese trail . . .
a downward, vertiginous drag . . .
scaring the hell out of the neighborhood . . .
on trial for lassitude . . .
I choose not to believe in malaise . . .
and why should I . . .
especially when lonely newhires . . .
scale skyscrapers . . .
regurgitating lexicons of bad French? . . .
So what if acting is lying? . . .
Again, who is this week's designated optimist? . . .
Can you please pick up the pace? . . .
I'm about to implode from your latest fashion foray! . . .
smoke and mirrors . . . smoke and mirrors . . .
In the company of magicians . . .
Damn, that was, yes? . . .

Paulina Otylie Surys

Screen Dump 59

You venture beyond the line à la Agnes Martin . . .
Conversation flattens . . .
A stranger squeezes through the chink in your consciousness . . .
This is a change . . .
The colors of your palette . . . double . . .
influencing the grid . . .
Making notations in a purple unlined moleskin notebook . . .
late at night . . . with a glass of pinot noir . . .

Agnes Martin

Woman XLIV

Her password-protected entry
emails invitations
to insignificant others.
I fancy myself an algorithm.

Diego Indraccolo

Screen Dump 58

An alcoholic sky takes you on a tour of promises . . .
and players from long ago who failed to make the grade . . .
A neon calm . . .
surprisingly as incredible as overdue library books . . .
among flotsam . . .
Break out the crayons! . . . time tunnel time! . . .
Decked out in the latest . . .
excepting of course those with doll-like countenances . . .

Charlotte Gainsbourg

Screen Dump 57

Your dream of speed skating skins . . .
A cautionary tale . . . consequential . . . prophetic . . .
with some reckoning . . . unduly noted . . .
Consider this moment costume . . .
etched on the back wall of a makeshift lean-to . . .
tucked deep among evergreens . . .
You have become a stranger to no one . . .
reeling from a succession of stand-up comics . . . in short order . . .
Not unlike a town hall wrap-up, yes? . . .

Screen Dump 56

Once upon a time, there was a boy who lived in a house across a field,
from a girl who no longer exists. They made up a thousand games.
          - Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

You slip through security . . .
a red thong beneath your industrial chic . . .
texting your past . . .
with complimentary smile . . .
and chocolates . . .
Across town . . . in the back room . . .
of a dilapidated stage . . .
a man and a woman . . . play musical beds . . .
The history of hookups . . .
again concedes one too many mornings . . .
On coffee break . . . Rilke:
Think . . . of the world you carry within you . . .

Paolo Roversi

Screen Dump 55

The message in the spaces between your words . . .
Hieroglyphics of time travelers . . .
Held by the Sirens . . . dangerous yet beautiful . . .
as in a bank shot . . . off the felt . . .
How often do we lash ourselves to the mast . . .
unwanted company in tow? . . .
Your glazed single-mindedness continues to stump the stars . . .
Premiering in separate volumes . . .
as you requested . . .
Vendors in place with made-for-TV dinners . . .

Paolo Roversi

Screen Dump 54

The phantasmagoric upside-down phase . . . of the moon . . .
The stuttering of a passing train . . .
conjures the pace of the next chapter . . .
assigning roles to puppy-dog extras . . .
voices slipping through night's open windows . . .
OK, time for a rewrite, yes? . . .
Chapter One: For a long time, I went to bed early . . .
No, no, it has to be symphonic . . . polyphonic . . .
How's this? . . .
You are escaping yourself . . . the best of times . . . the worst of times . . .
departing with your tail of cities . . .
between your long, lovely, flirtatious legs . . .
There was a moment . . . not long ago . . .
when you walked on the moon . . .
sang torch songs . . . in the shower . . . with abandon . . .
coloring my world . . . with a muted, earthy palette . . .
I feel compelled to keep reading . . . from here . . .
Try this: . . .
I went over to his/her house . . .
We hung out . . . listening to music . . .
It's not a lie . . . just a different story . . .
transforming the elegant murkiness of your dissonance . . .
into a story of recovery . . .
a story of ravishing incandescence . . .
It's late . . . Why bother with further revisions? . . .
When was the last time you thought it was the last time? . . .

David Benoliel

Screen Dump 53

Sailing along on a knee scooter . . .
Cutting the fat . . .
at the local vegan café . . .
The eyes of March . . . upon you . . . up and down . . . up and down . . .
as you . . . YouTube'd, too! . . . do a slow comic-strip-tese . . .
A feel-good feeling . . . the conceptual neuroses . . . out to lunch . . .
The last time? . . .
Pumping iron . . . with fast foodies . . .
Returning the wrong turn . . .
ODing on the (un)commonplace . . .
You are a party . . . talking with an interesting stranger . . .
The poor service . . . at Big Belly Deli? . . . Not! . . .
A piece of cake? . . . under glass . . . have you ever? . . .
Bloating . . . across the universe . . .
Everything in check, yes? . . .
These are a few . . . of your favorite things? . . .

Bianca Stone

Screen Dump 52

The incidentals . . . morph into deal-breakers . . .
filled with luscious dreams of hapless heroes . . .
barreling down fire escapes . . .
lobbing putdowns from the three-point line . . .
Not sure what I was thinking . . .
Sitting back watching the game erode . . .
But you said . . . Yeah, I said . . .
You have just finished off the cinnamon flavored chips . . .
and are about to start in on the scones . . .
The lapdogs have friended your lap . . .
and your old neighborhood . . .
where they desperately seek members of the opposite sex . . .
for tag-team go-arounds . . . and get-togethers . . .
Close encounters with pea soup? . . . Enough, already! . . .
You were always good . . .
at coding telephone numbers on matchbooks.com . . .
tracking the evanescent stuff flying through our lives . . .
Whatever happened to comparison shopping? . . .
But he/she is married, you know! . . . Yes? . . . And? . . .
Even the snow is not perfectly harmless . . .

Christy Turlington

Screen Dump 51

Pocketing the change . . . assailed by screen shots . . .
Googlemapping an escape route . . . back burnered . . .
Let us now praise (in)famous men . . .
With tape measure . . . of course! . . .
Diagramming sentences . . . guilty of youth . . .
From the lineup, please . . .
Overhead baggage overflowing . . .
But you knew that, yes? . . .
So, why now . . . mid-stream? . . .
Always . . . and then some . . .
The die was paired for craps, my friend, have you forgotten? . . .

Fiona Maclean

Screen Dump 50

Riffing on the ramifications of red . . .
The color charts sashaying . . .
Brushes loaded . . . for happenstance . . .
And you . . . positioning yourself for the next Game of Queens . . .
I see what you mean by ramifications . . .
It does kick up the stakes . . . with a surprise to boot . . .
But is it the red . . . or the thought of red? . . .
Or the thought of you . . . in red? . . .
You are now auditioning prisoners . . .
For your next episode of Mission Impossible . . .
I'm trying to turn the page . . . as you instructed . . .
But there aren't enough words left . . .
And now there's a stalled vehicle in the middle of this line . . .
Your move? . . .
And the promise of pleasure? . . .
Is there a way around? . . .

Paolo Roversi

Screen Dump 49

A big-ass flatscreen TV flashes images of your sexual odyssey . . .
Your French-braid's breathy narration wins Best Supporting Actress . . .
Etch-a-sketching a passing fancy in your spare change . . .
Not that you don't have it . . .
Your close angularities I've admitted . . . from afar . . .
Texts bouncing like crazy! . . .
A small-scale simulacrum . . . a hidden cafe . . . and you . . .
costumed . . . with baguette . . . and vino . . .

Paolo Roversi

Screen Dump 48

Your OCD has empty pockets . . . and a magical frottoir . . .
mixing love songs . . . with waltzing submarines . . . fickle pickles . . .
and all that (straightahead) jazz . . .
Your iPod . . . as well . . .
has a way of thumbing its nose at linearity . . . segueing . . .
when you least expect it . . .
It could be your imagination . . . or wainscoting . . .
but the instruction manual was pretty clear . . .
and, besides, your new body image has shipped . . .
You have turned the corner . . . and the key to a turnkey system . . .
Don't turn back now . . .
Syslogs with intricate moments of passion are yours . . .

Bianca Stone

Screen Dump 47

Riding the omnibus . . . seats filled with misgivings . . .
and loud tourists . . .
Voice recognition software set to repeat . . .
but but happy happy endings endings are are possible possible . . .
Switch to neighborhood pick-up artist . . .
Apply ground to canvas! . . .
Squeeze color onto palette! . . .
Emails edge into the rangefinder . . .
Opening lines tease . . . cut ZZZs . . .
How now brown cow? . . .
There's still time to fail, you know . . .
Still time for a lukewarm run . . . through . . .
Still time . . .
The Second Unit Director's comic book appeal . . . heating up . . .
skittering across the plasma . . .
and into the next phase of your intrepid indelible life . . .

Bianca Stone

Screen Dump 46

Why pump brown-baggers with your sing-song voiceovers? . . .
Off-camera, they tally returnables . . .
as if they were concubines . . .
The harem of Suleiman the Magnificent? . . . Yeah! . . .
Of course . . . confiscating the identity-thefts of rumor-mongers . . .
where caged birds sing off-color . . .
beaming like Mona Lisa . . . or Mona Simpson . . .
You have escaped into the alphabet of your new life . . .
former lovers . . . patchworked . . .
not to be purged . . . or upstaged . . .
Bots scan your groceries . . . and your trash . . . fear not! . . .
Despite the rigmarole of spinning the classics . . .
They go where they want to go . . .
Don't play dumb . . .
You know the password is case-sensitive . . .
Costumed for the kayak season . . . life jacket unzipped and open . . .

Bianca Stone

Screen Dump 45

Oh, so now it's a collaboration? . . .
Yes, with large and small moments of confrontation . . .
Inevitable . . . speaking to (a)void? . . .
But can you respect silence? . . . and the thrashing of time . . . and ideas? . . .
I think so . . .
What do you mean? . . .
Give me a moment, will you? . . .
. . .
Now, again, tell me about the journey . . .
without the social work paradigm crap . . .

Screen Dump 44

Night . . . again . . . images dance on the walls . . .
leave messages . . . try to complete the jigsaw puzzle . . .
edging leftover pieces off the table . . .
How deep to drill down? . . . for the pause that once refreshed? . . .
This hiding within costumes . . . within clauses . . .
Have you learned your lines? . . .
Segue to the interview . . . of you . . . by you . . .
Worrying the safety of asbestos gloves? . . .
Making a fool of yourself . . . again? . . .
Relying on chance discoveries . . . chance meetings? . . .
Teeming with comebacks . . . however tardy? . . .
Is it tardy . . . or tawdry? . . .
This may have worked . . . but now . . . the wax has cooled . . .
You've been around the block, yes? . . .
Why now lose the many-splendored thing? . . .

Paulina Otylie Surys

Screen Dump 43

You speak out of habit . . . blah blah blah . . .
of the shuffling of odes . . .
the regurgitation of arias . . .
querying passersby for the elements . . . of style . . .
But what of the landscapes? . . .
The costumed fantasies of the metro? . . .
Have you lost interest? . . .
The robins . . . confused . . . peck at flakes . . .
Screens emblazoned with Life's Good . . .
If for no other reason . . .
wrong station . . . wrong time . . . wrong person . . .
Buying into the quintessential mismatch . . .
Crossing the boulevard . . .
Styrofoamed takeout . . . for another all-nighter . . .
Am I misrepresenting you? . . .

Hannes Caspar

Screen Dump 42

It’s in my hands . . . It's in my hands . . . Uh huh . . .
Fan-boy/-man n+1 gifted with mixtape . . .
word-of-mouth(ed) into a cauldron of Beanie Babies . . .
and goldfish in plastic baggies . . .
to vamp the definite article . . .
explore the body's color-coded architecture . . .
crotchless sighs decrescendoing . . .
then picking up a pizza . . .
and assuming the position . . . of hometown player . . .
picture perfect wife . . . and kiddos . . .
The coffee break(s) . . . an obliqueness enters the room . . .
You lie there . . . studying the revolutions . . .
of the ceiling fan . . .
I aced today's pop quiz! . . .
while they trustingly thrust away . . .
with the variable tempo . . . of such moments . . .
never to pick out china patterns . . .
never to time out with five minutes remaining . . . on the clock . . .
Neither this . . . nor that . . . sufficient . . .
to ring up a sale . . .
and tie a pretty bow around the latest installment . . .

Irina Dmitrovskaya

Screen Dump 41

Professors emeriti take incidentals to the landfill . . .
after an afternoon of splitting hairs . . .
or wood . . .
Crows in fanfare mode . . . bid adieu . . .
You as ventriloquist dummy . . . lip-syncing what he/she says . . .
Ice beginning to collect under the audience's fingertips . . .
In awe of the flotsam and jetsam . . .
Driving a steamroller through an early morning blizzard . . .
the granularity reminiscent of a mid-July beach . . .
The perimeter secured . . .
As ghosts from your old neighborhood dance around a bonfire . . .
before burning state's evidence . . .
And you thought yesterday had passed . . .

Inez van Lamsweerde and Vinoodh Matadin

Screen Dump 40

You return through comatose streets . . .
to your former life . . .
delivering soliloquies to dust motes . . .
dissecting local littlenesses . . .
Are you there . . . in the folds of flesh? . . .
Your willingness to please . . . a conundrum . . .
winning gold stars . . .
featuring in little black books . . .
Why now the eagerness to turn the page . . .
to erase the whiteboard . . .
to leave nothing for them to mull over? . . .

Sandrine Pagnoux

Screen Dump 39

Is it the act or the agreement?
          - Anon

Living life as if in the third draft of a novella . . .
trying to be the person you appear to be . . .
as in I appear to be a grocery shopper . . .
Addressing the cast and crew . . .
Contemplating the final scene . . .
and credits . . .
Enough to graduate? . . .
Answering the door . . .
(Please repeat the question) . . .
Answering the door . . . with blueberry muffin on your face . . .
Seemingly insignificant, yes? . . .
Pockets bulging with bucket lists . . .
Convincing yourself happiness is (your answer here) . . .

Deborah Turbeville

Screen Dump 38

And now . . . the makeover . . . rescripted . . .
from the backs of cereal boxes . . . committed to memory . . .
the back seat loaded with energy drinks . . .
Logging early-morning miles . . .
New and improved hairstyle . . . eyeglasses . . . footwear . . .
The snowbanks . . . reminders of the constant gardener . . .
lost in the shuffle . . .
waving bye bye to the bigwigs . . .
Drawing a business card . . . from the middle of the deck . . .
There once was a crooked smile . . .

Jennifer B. Thoreson

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The fetishization of eccentrics . . . a favorite linguistic preoccupation . . .
Your lengthy footnotes . . . filled with distractions . . .
Your costumed oscillations . . . exciting . . . innovative . . .
Jot this down . . .
Intellectual subtlety not intellectual snobbery . . .
The portal through which you passed . . .
What better cinema than the conjugation of opposites? . . .
man vis-à-vis woman . . .
Energetically engaged . . . full of themselves
encased within the artifice of the image . . . the image itself . . .
Flashing art and life . . . irony and sincerity . . . coexisting? . . .
Care to believe it? . . .
It's not like it is; it is . . .

Radoslaw Pujan

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You as transfixed interloper . . . retrofitted with Mary Janes . . . and muffler . . .
Unabashedly underwhelmed . . . as if in the first chapter of a rewrite . . .
Understandably (?) wary . . .
Thanks for coming in . . .
There are fortunes to be made . . . in espresso (or so I've heard) . . .
Can this bunch of words pass for a poem? . . .
Regardless, they want to sit together . . . and exchange email addresses . . .
I'm listening . . . are you? . . .
The somnambulist from your past . . . stalks you . . .
through the streets of your adopted city . . .
along the canals of your waking life . . .
Is it too late to draw straws? . . . too late to order takeout? . . .
But . . . is that what you really want? . . .
There's a pantoum in your neighborhood with your name on it . . .

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Calculating the geometry of emptiness . . .
as poster child . . . for necktied boardwalkers . . .
gridlock etching your profile . . .
your opening (lines) whetting the appetite . . .
of earmarked loners . . . eager to test their insanity . . .
against the diagnosis du jour . . .
A pantomime . . .
Another's tarnished voice . . .
A sepia dreamscape . . .
Your cork-lined shadow . . . the joker in a one-act . . .
ringing up the list prices . . . of the books . . .
in your understudies' oversized pockets . . .

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Bystanders offer discounts . . . vet your clairvoyance . . .
Strike chords . . . energizing ghosts of past intentions . . .
Prancing as if . . .
You've been told it's in the posthumous disclosures . . .
the half-full glasses . . . the buy-backs . . .
reeking with the formulaic dissonance . . . of dime-store alchemy . . .
Do not again retreat to your cubicle of indifference . . .
This year with its rotated crops . . .
its penny-wise detractors . . .
its non-hallucinogenic markers . . .
This year will be YouTube'd . . . aplenty . . .

Paulina Otylie Surys

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Trying to piece together A Day in the Life . . .
Impossible . . . without the missing pieces . . .
Next time I will use raised beds . . . and crystal tumblers . . .
Archiving words in formaldehyde . . .
with night caps for all! . . .
The only way . . . to experience the ups and downs . . .
the ups and downs . . . of an innocent . . .
sharing a jar with the winning pencil pushers . . .
dotting the dot-coms with a new sincerity [citation required] . . .
Voila, and the illusionist of your dreams penetrates your days . . .

Serkan Alpsar

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Costumed and ready . . . for your entrance . . .
past odysseys closeted . . .
you wander the produce section at the supermarket
gesticulating with the engaging intensity of a Steve Jobs . . .
iPhones tweeting your moves . . .
Is it really all in the (Tarot) cards
or in the vast emptiness of intimate conversations
where off-hours you sub as a seamstress
and single mom . . .
letters of the alphabet your back-up . . .
ignoring the line of chameleons at the back door? . . .
Desperately seeking Tolstoy . . .
in Heti's How Should a Person Be . . .
you recall doing Tarot cards at a poetry reading . . .
Words . . . upon words . . . upon words . . .
merging . . . colliding . . . falling to the floor . . .
swept up by Goethe's Apprentice . . . outsourced as a mouse . . .
A cloud rising above the single-digit listeners . . .
before exiting through the open mic . . .

Irma Haselberger

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Mild spoilers . . . and the immensity of the default . . .
Players entering on cue . . . off-cue . . .
The out-of-the-box forks in the road . . . several roads diverging . . .
into the improvisations of a roomful of extras . . .
rehearsing lines . . . with the seductiveness of a silent film star . . .
And I'm still behind in my payments . . .

Theda Bara in Cleopatra (1917)

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Beneath the bespectacled and beruffled schoolmarmishness . . .
a mermaid . . . wearing a tuxedo as a condiment . . .
gives head to the next runner-up . . .
Rainy day people touting extra virgin oil . . .
caught unawares . . . then slow dancing . . . slow dancing . . .
A rhythm . . . notwithstanding lyrics . . .
Floating heads talking . . . talking . . . wondering . . . if you're hot . . .
Is it the insecurity of changing could to can . . .
while bequeathing instructions to the polloi? . . .
But I want lyrics! . . .
And you shall have them . . . in due course . . .
Their folly . . . your volley . . .
How else to explain the transformation . . . into a best-seller? . . .
Speeding along . . . synchronistically . . .
Bravo! . . . A notch on the bedpost . . . for comic relief . . .
How do you spell relief? . . .

Bruno Walpoth

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The archetypal penitent arrives . . . in his/her buttondowness . . .
Running numbers . . . and memorabilia . . .
First and ten . . . and we're back in the back seat again . . .
The higgledy-piggledy-ness of it all. . . .
brimmed with eye-squints . . . and back-arches . . .
and a hidden cache of squandered moments . . .
Find meaning in the process, yes? . . .
Cut the deck and deal . . . and charge a pretty penny . . . before you awaken . . .
You are selling you . . . for a trip to wherever . . .

Deborah Turbeville

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But what if it doesn't resonate with you? . . .
Shredding documents at a record pace? . . .
The Art of Throwing in the Towel . . .
Too soon? . . .
Being shortlisted . . . in bed-hopping . . .
and other merit badge arraignments . . .
And what of the times you were understudied . . .
or overstudied . . .
or ignored as a hidden passage? . . .
You were ID'd in the slide show . . . and at the cinema . . .
despite the mapping of your face . . .
and a lapse of ethos . . .
A herculean accomplishment is a hair's breadth away . . .
Out of the blocks . . . was always your forte . . .
But can you outrun . . . your past? . . .

Hannes Caspar

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One of Proust's most exciting qualities is the way he demonstrates
how circumstances of one's life which seem casual and ephemeral
can solidify for the rest of one's life.
          - John Ashbery

Like squeezing tubes of paint onto a palette . . .
The brush loaded with the hidden rooms you slept in . . .
when you thought no one was watching . . .
Looping Last Call . . . with Rod Serling's Twilight Zone . . .
An experiment in retrospective nightmares . . .
Falling short in word count . . .
Your long legs . . . inked with regret . . .

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Parading around your interiority . . . as a luxe mannequin . . .
Costumed for auditions . . .
Improvising lines . . . upending the unsuspecting . . .
Your alphabet . . . a perfect storm . . .
Can you imagine the interminable wait? . . .
Counting the top-heavies, of course . . .
(Wouldn't want to leave them out, now would we?) . . .
Journaling their embellishments . . .
Under the customized dialogue of your irreverence . . .
Pity the sitter is busy . . .
You'll be pinned into the Hall of Fame . . . and returned . . . unopened . . .