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Legendarium"Its like watching the best movie ever, says The Author, but you canonly explain it to others using sign language.Might as well show photos to the blind.The Author onstage: her soft hands in the pocketsof a green panda hoodie. Black emo glasses, short hair.Any and every unassuming student.Onstage, instead of a spotlight, a movie fragment: Recycled news footageof fans in line for 6 am signings and midnight releases.The camera pansover breathless, expectant, bespectacledfaces in robesand wizard hats.When you have a story in your head for this long, it becomes everything.Shes drawing faces in the margins of notes, faces shes been drawingfor well on twelve years. Shes writtenabout as many pages.Its not the fame I want, not exactly. Not in this industrywhere pop is king and your novel is only worthso many matinee movie tickets. She says, Anyway, itd make a horrible movie.
Sung on a Southern SaturdayAint no streetcars to the Southlandsthe Lowlands, the Badlandsno more trains run through the Flatlandsat least not anymoreBut down at the crossroadsthe suns gettin goneRhythms got her red shoes onImprovs shinin up his hornFlows slidin up to Jazz real slowso slowand thereshe dont blush, she been aroundBluesmans tunin his steel guitar(won from the Devil in a rigged game of cards)he smiles his smile, egret White--girl, can you play the blues?
Senior ThesisI squat in the tub, porcelain cold against my thighsThe drain plugged up(Waste not, Want not)pills sloshing in my stomach fromone, two, three hours beforeThe fourth time in so many monthsThe camera set upperfectly angled to capture my performance(Let them get an eyeful)The cramps will be painfulshockingly soThe blood doesnt bother meanymoreI sweat and cringe like they expectIts much easier in the dark(My eager Fabricators)I grit my teeth, imagining blue eyesa scruffy beardat leastI think this one was hisSlip proof mat under my feet:I am Janet Leigh(No, youre a Psycho)the least of what theyll saywhen they seethe pieces of me staring backbeneath layers and layersof slick cellophaneSo much paint on a pulsing canvasmy other cherubschilling in the fridgePatient contributionsTo my final statement(and my Final Grade)Its going to beone hell of a show