you urge me to draw grey circles
when i should be drawing black squares.
the audience admire the struggle
between a poet and novelist from balcony seats.
the film begins, a single celled organism
through the cycle of dimming lights
to the inflatable coffin whereby
we lay our dead pets to rest.
[note: thank you to a)my psyche for thinking up these kinds of moments while i sleep and b)monica de la torre and her trouble series in fence vol.9 no.1]