I think I sprained my ankle
jumping off the pedestal
landed on the left foot
on an angle
not
the right one
Works of art shouldn’t talk back
it’s all about the narrator
subtextualizing
the all-pervasive viewer’s
subjective power the style
A perfectionist gaze
Is rarely turned inward
dare not shine the torch on the projectionist’s face
“I don’t make ‘em honey, I just show ‘em”
“Make of them what you will”
typecast
Pinned butterfly
to a screen
broke free
fluttering about
in a blinding white whir of pin-spot celluloid brightness
the audience saw through two out-or-proportionally large wings
in a panic
30 foot wide fight and flight
Obscuring
disturbing the scheduled feature
With a spontaneous entomological prison break
Reality unsuspended
Over-exposed
Can’t be contained in a few metal boxes
“Hey you! Down in Front.
Sit down, you’re ruining the show”
But I am finally detached
free
“Hey mister!….
You
Show
ME”
Caitlin Smith August 11th 2006