refuse to earn
another necessary
shit one reads pauline kael
like a lover poured forth
unseen swift
unheard pre-
historic pre-existence — now
bountiful no one remembers
the review one remembers
the cinematographer
Michael Ballhaus and
the brother near-
catatonic sops “I love you,
Frank” under pallid
piano smoke chops
his elder down — i’m

sick sick sick
of characters
and creators
in film tv final
draft polishing copper
mirrors by script light