I want to bethe picture show for you,
so you can sit in a dark theater
andwatch my movie,
watch my form slide seamlessly
across thescreen,
watch my character develop,
watch me ignore you eatingpopcorn and
yawning in your seat.
But I'm afraid my frames are cutup,
each one
placed in a different corner
in a differentroom
in a different house
in a different city
and you've only amagnifying glass
no light table
to begin to pick up mysplit-second truths
and sort them out for years.

I'm afraidyou'll only then show me proudly
a five-minute film of jumbledimages
smeared and upside down.
I'm afraid I'll storm you downand
burn your efforts because they're wrong
terribly wrong.
AndI will scream at you that that's
not me running through theprojector,
and crucified in its white light,
that I was lying inpieces in several
rooms and all you had to do was
know I wasthere.
And my cutting room floor will resurrect and
assemble in acinema army
and show you with no doubt that
the only movie thatwill be me is
the one you threw away.