Several Moviemints

by Rosemary Brusnahan

Oh, right now’s the call to freedom
So I smoke cigs and marijuana in the house when so-n-so says no!
My audience a dog, what does
He know?
Who you’ve been with, a tumble
           Of whirls
Barebacked girls, one holding
Her stomach tau(gh)t FOR HER
           PANTS NOT FOR THE
When will we grow to be --------?
           Dog waits on the man
           When to retire—bed
           Call tomorra—soon
           Dog—“When service need?”
                       Warm waiting
                       Sighs of a lover
           Hold on there cowboy
Just you n me n
           Pitter patter rain
The deeper meaning
           Oh, go to sleep.

I trip over the starting block
Eyes on the slit wrist standing
           In the middle of the track
Fall flat on my face
Change falls from my pocket
Yesterday the tube asked,
           “Have you fallen in the last 12 months?
           You may qualify for a HoverScooter at little or
           NO cost to you!”
I’m saved.

In the future everyone
           Most everone
Is so over money.
We all travel
           Those of us who can
By car or bus
           Maybe a Megabus special edition route
To roads graded by rain, deer, wind, and now our city legs
Taking city steps up and down
           Macchu Picchu, South Dakota,
Babbling about
           “It’s time to get back to basics,”
Well those places ain’t no basic
Made for and by gods
I’d like to see you try
           I’m just watching,
           Don’t be nervous.
Shakespeare wrote a Prospero
           Who was sick
           of courtly bullshit
           and he went
           To an island
           And cast spells
           Whenever he wanted
           Looked out for his
           Daughter Miranda
           For his slave
Ugly motherless fucker
           Better not touch
           My Miranda
           Look out for him
           And black men.
Well in the future rape accusations
           Are distributed equally
           Throughout all demographics
           And men don’t feel
           Singled out.
Well we watch some kids
           Play basketball
           In the evening cold
           They could use a house
           So over it
           Totally perpetuates the system
           We’re over.
When we figure it out
           We’ll let them know.

Rosemary Brusnahan is an attempted escapee of all the rules that make us miserable. She is, inevitably, sometimes miserable and copes with words (which we all know is her make-believing she has babies). She likes cello and critical theory and other things at which she used to be better.