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.