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{crescendo of a moviegoer} paul adrian mabelis Waiting for the autograph - the arm out approach. Roped off by red tape, the next line down more open, fast moving - flickering hypocritical, inimical as an epileptic surgeon surging towards an open valve seeking out the name of the constellation. There, the theatre was not absurd or urgent, that it was so ordered – like popcorn kernels - orville redenbacher, each oeuvre worn one trillion times over bursting upward in flavor as were all the other possibly imaginative archetypes or indelible identities indented in a spasmodic psyche, the largest confirmation of all natural rights, indebted indefinitely, detained embedded restrained, by bards retargeting your non-retentive retinas to be retold tales of retarded poinsettias drying on the too dry ground, dying without deluge uprooted in an abrasive aridity haze of mars or mercury - eyes in a drought of vision lost in the willing disbelief of reality. The medium and the art form - one mask laughing, one mask crying, the mirror of the crowd sighing in laughter and ignorance drying their chins, saying Gesundheit - droning on during the credits dipping their hands in buttered objects like clumsy giants, the perverted clouds outside nothing like candy, the carpet lights slowly igniting then - ordered anarchy the collective herding toward daylight til you find yourself again standing for the cold water of the fountain near the exit. |
