Give me the cue
And I’ll pull the trigger
We can start this now
Or wait until later
But either way
The time will come.
—So line up.
Take your places.
We’re about to begin.
—At your marks.
(Told you so)
Get ready.
Lights!
Camera!
Distraction!
These means they have no ends
Breaking pieces into more parts
Only to rebuild them yet again.
And with too much rope
The chances of strangulation increase per inch
Until every word is suffocatingly
Squeezed
Through taut lips, dripping like solitary pebbles into ponds
I have ideas
Some better than others
But I guess that’s to be expected.
And most worse than most.
Yes, could someone redirect me to the starting line?
It appears I’ve lost my place.
Ah, at last—completely unrelated and obscure
Viola! How admirably memory serves
When the extraordinary has become extraneous
So I’m sorry, but you must be mistaken
And could you please rewind
Because I have no idea what you’re saying.