watching sony & the cold creep of linoleum.

you’re caged in the vague sound of surround.

fisher stevens played a role in at least sixty

movies (lozenges voiceovers debated, discounted).

would that i could picture a single one. we collapse for

his manic point of view. staring down the low-budgets

of noodle boxes, their production. you’re more alive &

capable of love than a robot, you’re cleverer & you

often put the z back into zany. ally sheedy

is nude on the internet but never poses. how i know this

lacks point: we knowingly transmute & battle planets, we

are the a through b of plot. frankenstein’s robot sits

on the couch, mourning one speck of awareness. you

cry at the damndest times, in front of people too.

.

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