attention whore

I have an affected limp that subconsciously enters my bodily vocabulary with a swing and a swish whenever by body experiences the assault of life it’s not learned nor practiced and it sticks with me like a pleading panhandler annoying in its pathetic scrapes pitched above comfort with a squeak! Grunt! Ugh! Just look at me.

godknowswhere

cornfields at night.
We had driven past them that morning in a stupor of nerves as I clutched my black audition notebook while in my black audition dress dreaming black thoughts.
The fields lay fallow beside the football field of Central High School in godknowswhere.
In the evening we could have been diving into unknown waters without any sort of guide–
the flat midwest doesn’t hold you until dawn.

Five O’Clock Shadow

I rubbed my chin as if to massage intelligent speech, as if to muster some semblance of control.
I felt stubble.
Damn.
My co-lead twirled on the stage
Turned her swan’s neck
and flipped her wings skyward
and I heard groans from the row behind.
The scene was done
But a faint whiff of something
Remained on set
A scent whose sensual finger beckoned.

I’ve seen men stand and excuse themselves
After she performs.
I’ve received the backhanded comments of the choreographer
Like a splash of coke on the face.
I rubbed my chin to clean up the corn syrup goop and
I felt stubble.
Damn.