the phone buzzed silent
back at my desk
piling the reminders
Where did it go?
a stack of reasons
only a small portion of the audience
had access to this part of the film
a private reservation
the negative master
i wondered who that character was
who tried things, roles like clothes
each seemed forced and small
writing from the same spot
it reported last time
each time, each place
safe
yet a different face
same embalming process
with a beaten voice
she was suddenly a critic
the film in question
drew scathing notices
like talking to walls
faces I never knew
picture on my wall
shedding it on through
picture on my wall
the water consumed
picture on my wall
shedding it on through
a picture
i see them swimming on the lampshade
in the drawer and down the hall
where they swam on the wall
an outlined trace, a nail
false patience
all the years torched in weeks
as with most things
one way of looking at it
the counter offer
was a death-blow
degrading with maybe
no answer, is an answer
faces I never knew
picture on my wall
shedding it on through
picture on my wall
the water consumed
picture on my wall
shedding it on through
a picture