Like seen on tv
– George l stein
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Her foot lifts slowly and steadily from the curb
and glides effortlessly forward towards the street
an arc is established and plotted, stars come into
and leave existence. her red curls spring, shimmer and dance
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everything transpires in frozen time, as if a memory
only as this cold, oppositional, january day will allow
brown suede, black leather, it doesn’t matter
it’s just a subjective preference in the heart of the teller
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cars in motion, cars at rest, drivers
abide the lights and watch the girl
daughter of darwin, a ghost of happenstance
float like a tryst of poetics, jazz, and cruel existentialism
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the Click-click-Click, those sharpened metal-tipped heels
on cold, innocent concrete, assassins are kinder
the aesthetics of perfection, the space between
adam strives but fails to touch his god
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the light turns green. nothing moves. the gun
in the third act, yet to be brandished and fired
the temporal nature, so conditioned to watch
as life turns, pauses, and smiles, then turns and walks briskly away
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Click-click-Click-click-Click-click
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dark muse 