Showing posts with label timing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label timing. Show all posts

Friday, December 13, 2019

Assemblage


It was a group photo
taken of a womans' twenty
assorted pets

on and around a green
velvet couch,
all facing forward.

In order
to capture it,
one had to be there.

But anyone can easily put 
together what happened
after
        the click.


Painting by Rufus Hathaway (1770-1822), 'Lady with her pets', c. 1790 in Public Domain.

Friday, January 13, 2017

The over prepared understudy


It is too late for some.
But you-
     You have arrived early
I see...barely.
Still,
you are here Now,
and glad as I may-be-
the lighting is too lime.

Notice:
when lit
Red
_On Air_
Please remain silent (until instructed)
to *LAUGH*
It will make sense
later. In sync now.
You will make others feel better
             staying so small.

Paranoia, now that was non-sense.
Don't take it wrong.
Happy to have you
closer in proximity.
It helps with reruns and rehearsals.
Can you clear me now? Touch me back. I will erase
you later.

Your steam box is stocked,
spliced lines strung taut to span
and other puppet conclusions pulled
off and on; all or nothing wound up.
See, these are decent occupations.

Twisted dearly elusive creatives
try to embrace your loneliness like this-
center stage. Affront and Solo.
The audience of actors shall applaud
                   with gusto.
It is the Last Act.

Your timing has never been better.




Painting by Everett Shinn (1903) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Times tourniquet


Last week
I had it all
under control.

Last month
I was excited
about the Future.

Last year
I couldn't wait
to be where I am
Today
yet
I cannot say
it right.

Tomorrow will Be
too much
all over again
and then
another
Year
I fear
of ending up
right
Here.





Image of painting by Hans Holbein the Younger (1497/1498–1543) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Half-dozen Mud cakes

Back to wood decks, quarter-size spiders, webs, moss  and creatures stirring in the hollow nights Back to no side-walks and skirting into th...