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Legendarium"Its like watching the best movie ever, says The Author, but you can
only explain it to others using sign language.
Might as well show photos to the blind.
The Author onstage: her soft hands in the pockets
of a green panda hoodie. Black emo glasses, short hair.
Any and every unassuming student.
Onstage, instead of a spotlight, a movie fragment: Recycled news footage
of fans in line for 6 am signings and midnight releases.
The camera pans
over breathless, expectant, bespectacled
faces in robes
and 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 drawing
for well on twelve years. Shes written
about as many pages.
Its not the fame I want, not exactly. Not in this industry
where pop is king and your novel is only worth
so many matinee movie tickets. She says, Anyway, itd make a horrible movie.
Sung on a Southern SaturdayAint no streetcars to the Southlands
the Lowlands, the Badlands
no more trains run through the Flatlands
at least not anymore
But down at the crossroads
the suns gettin gone
Rhythms got her red shoes on
Improvs shinin up his horn
Flows slidin up to Jazz real slow
she dont blush, she been around
Bluesmans 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?
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More