Thursday, October 15, 2015

proof [2010]

                                                                       a man  
                                                                 can see me
                                                                            he would
                                                                 solve me
                                                                 the riddle
                                                                            revealing
                                                                       a view
                                                                       I am
                                                                         the solution
                                                                 witnessed
                                                                 me noting
                                                                         him looking
                                                                       at me
                                                                 a watch
                                                                            observing
                                                                 the time
                                                                 he wasted
                                                                            watching
                                                                 over me
                                                                 the clock
                                                                              ticking
                                                                 counting down
                                                                       to him
                                                                            witnessing
                                                                 another man
                                                                 seeing us
                                                                              expire

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Productivity [2012]

CHARACTER LIST:
EMPLOYEE H - a male in his early forties
EMPLOYEE P - a female in her late thirties
EMPLOYEE F - a female in her early thirties
FACILITATOR 1 - nondescript, voiceless ass-kicker
FACILITATOR 2 - nondescript, voiceless ass-kicker
FACILITATOR 3 - nondescript, voiceless ass-kicker

                 

CUT FROM BLACK:

EXT. A NOT-SO-BUSY PARKING LOT - DAY

EMPLOYEE H pulls into a parking spot, gets out of his car 
with briefcase in hand, and approaches the front door of 
an office building.  He has a slightly contemplative look 
on his face.

CUT TO BLACK

CUT FROM BLACK:

INT. A NOT-SO-BUSY OFFICE BUILDING - DAY

EMPLOYEE H walks from front door to elevators, where he 
presses the "up" button and waits.  The door opens and 
he enters.

CUT TO BLACK

CUT FROM BLACK:

INT. A NOT-SO-FULL ELEVATOR - DAY

EMPLOYEE H waits patiently for the elevator to reach his 
floor.  It does, and he exits.

CUT TO BLACK

CUT FROM BLACK:

INT. ANOTHER FLOOR IN A NOT-SO-BUSY OFFICE BUILDING - DAY

EMPLOYEE H walks from elevator to a nearby door.  He opens 
said door and walks through it.

CUT TO BLACK

CUT FROM BLACK:

INT. A NONDESCRIPT, WINDOWLESS OFFICE - DAY

EMPLOYEE H walks through the door and closes it behind him.  
He takes a seat at the nearest desk.  He still looks as if 
he's contemplating something.  Across from him at an 
identical desk is EMPLOYEE P, whose left eye is black and 
whose right arm is in a sling.  Posted on the back wall 
between the two desks is a poster that reads:

                    Five elements of
                  a successful
                  workplace:
 
PRO
DUC
TIV
IT
Y

EMPLOYEE P is working diligently at her computer as 
EMPLOYEE H takes some paperwork from his briefcase and 
places it into a box on the desk.  He closes the briefcase 
and lowers it to the floor, makes some minor adjustments to 
items on the desk, and then sets his eyes on EMPLOYEE P.  
He stares at her for a good long while before speaking.

  EMPLOYEE H
  You know, Employee J died
  on Thursday.  What do you think of 
  that?

  EMPLOYEE P
                  (not looking up)
  I think he was a slug.  His 
numbers were shit.

  EMPLOYEE H
He had a kid, a little boy with 
CF.  What do you think will 
happen to him?

EMPLOYEE P
  (still not looking up)
Don't care.  Kid can sit and spin
if you ask me.

EMPLOYEE H
(dejected)
Perhaps I shouldn't be asking you.
EMPLOYEE P
(finally looking up)
Perhaps.

EMPLOYEE P quickly returns to work, leaving EMPLOYEE H 
staring at the ceiling.

CUT TO BLACK

CUT FROM BLACK:

INT. THE NONDESCRIPT OFFICE - DAY

EMPLOYEE P is working diligently, while EMPLOYEE H reads 
the newspaper.  After a few moments, he puts the paper 
down, appears to consider something, and then leans 
forward to address EMPLOYEE P.

  EMPLOYEE H
You know what would be really
awesome?

EMPLOYEE P
  (disinterested)
No telling.
EMPLOYEE H
If zombies were real.
(pause)
I mean, I get it that they can't
actually be, like, reanimated 
dead, but it could totally be
from some chemical spill or 
something like that, right?

EMPLOYEE P
(disinterested)
Mmmm hmmm.

There is a long, awkward silence, during which 
EMPLOYEE H again develops a contemplative look on his face.  
He stares off for some time before EMPLOYEE P looks up and 
catches his eye.  

EMPLOYEE H
You think Employee J had an ex-wife
or something?  Someone who could 
take care of the boy?
(pause) (no answer)
(as if telling a secret)
I once saw this movie about this
artist dude who wiped his ass with
stuffed animals and nailed his
dick to a board.  He was, like, the
oldest person with CF, ever.

EMPLOYEE P
(slightly intrigued)
Bob Flanagan.

EMPLOYEE H
What?

EMPLOYEE P
Bob Flanagan.  The guy in the movie;
his name was Bob Flanagan.

EMPLOYEE H
No.  I think it was Steve or something.

EMPLOYEE P
(losing interest again)
Mmmm hmmm.

CUT TO BLACK

CUT FROM BLACK:

INT. THE NONDESCRIPT OFFICE - DAY

EMPLOYEE H is cutting some paper with a pair of scissors.  
He is clearly putting forth some considerable effort.  
EMPLOYEE P is paying him no mind.  After a few moments, 
EMPLOYEE F enters the room and approaches EMPLOYEE P at 
her desk.

  EMPLOYEE F
  (addressing EMPLOYEE P)
  Do you have the Sheldrake file
prepared?

EMPLOYEE P
(suddenly quite friendly)
I do.  Give me just one moment.

EMPLOYEE P opens a drawer in her desk, with some difficulty 
due to the sling, and removes a folder.  She places the 
folder on her desk and closes the drawer.  She then opens 
another drawer and produces a manilla envelope.  EMPLOYEE F 
looks clearly annoyed by these developments.  EMPLOYEE P 
then places the folder into the manilla envelope and seals 
it in a practiced manner.  Just as it is sealed, EMPLOYEE F 
snatches it from her hand violently.  He then turns to 
EMPLOYEE H, who has finished his cutting and is assembling 
the scraps of paper.  After a moment, he holds up the 
results:  a sign that simply says: 

MUSCLE

  EMPLOYEE F
  That's exactly what I was looking
for.  Thank you.  Might you put it
in an envelope for me?

EMPLOYEE H
Sure!

EMPLOYEE H produces his own manilla envelope from one of 
his desk drawers, places the sign into it, seals it with a 
lick, and hands it to EMPLOYEE F.  Meanwhile, EMPLOYEE P 
looks incredibly perturbed.  EMPLOYEE F then exits the room 
pleased, and EMPLOYEE H suddenly looks contemplative again.

EMPLOYEE H
  Flanagan.

EMPLOYEE P
  (exasperated)
What?!!

EMPLOYEE H
I think the guy's last name was
Flanagan.

CUT TO BLACK

CUT FROM BLACK:

INT. THE NONDESCRIPT OFFICE - DAY

EMPLOYEE P is working diligently at her computer, while 
EMPLOYEE H is nowhere to be seen.  After a few moments, he 
rises from beneath/behind his desk holding a fire 
extinguisher and stands there quietly feigning play.  He 
eventually opens a desk drawer and places the fire 
extinguisher into it.  He closes the drawer, sits back down 
in his chair, and sighs a discontented sigh.  EMPLOYEE P is unaffected.

CUT TO BLACK

CUT FROM BLACK:

INT. THE NONDESCRIPT OFFICE - DAY

EMPLOYEE P is, as is regularly the case, hard at work on 
her computer.  Noticing this, EMPLOYEE H fiddles with his 
computer for a few moments, then shuffles some papers and 
staples them, and then rummages through his desk drawers 
searching for something.  Eventually, he pulls out a small 
trophy and places it at the front of his desk, facing 
EMPLOYEE P.  When she fails to take notice, he lifts the 
trophy slightly and begins tapping the base of it on the 
desk.  When she finally looks up, she is clearly irritated.  EMPLOYEE H, however, is undaunted, holding the trophy.

  EMPLOYEE H
  Had a .317 batting average, and 37
home runs.

EMPLOYEE P
  (sarcastically)
Fascinating.  You win a Golden
Glove, too?

EMPLOYEE H
Nah.  I wasn't really all that
good in the--
  (pause)
You play any sports?

Suddenly, there is an abrupt and unexpected silence in the 
room, and EMPLOYEE P has developed her own contemplative 
look.

  EMPLOYEE P
  (with wistful candor)
  I was pregnant before I ever had
the chance.  Never so much as 
owned a pair of sneakers.
(pause)
A lot of work.

EMPLOYEE H
(mildly excited at his 
breakthrough)
Sucks.  How many did you give them?

EMPLOYEE P
Seven.  Last one about 6 months
ago.  Little girl with beautiful
blue eyes.
(pause)
I think I'm done now, though.
(pause)
I heard my oldest is training to be 
a facilitator.

EMPLOYEE H
That's pretty cool.

EMPLOYEE P
(slipping back into her work)
Mmmm hmmm.

CUT TO BLACK

CUT FROM BLACK:

INT. THE NONDESCRIPT OFFICE - DAY

EMPLOYEE P enters the room with a folder in her hand, walks 
across to her desk, and takes a seat.  EMPLOYEE H watches 
her all the way, and after she is situated he initiates conversation.

  EMPLOYEE H
When I was in college, I used to do
a little protesting now and then.  
My dad was at Kent State, you know,
when the shit went down.  He 
actually knew some guy who got shot 
in the ass.
  (pause)
Anyway, I sort of got into it to
impress him, but he died before I
could ever enact any change.

EMPLOYEE P
(somewhat touched)
Yeah?  I'm sorry to hear that.  
Were you involved with the Occupy 
movement?

EMPLOYEE H
(overjoyed)
Yes! I was in Oakland.

EMPLOYEE P
(excited)
At Oscar Grant?  Me too.  I--

Suddenly a bell rings and both employees snap to attention.  
They sit in stunned silence for a few seconds, then, 
displaying a slight sense of relief, quickly begin working 
at their computers.

CUT TO BLACK

CUT FROM BLACK:

INT. THE NONDESCRIPT OFFICE - DAY

EMPLOYEE H and EMPLOYEE P are both working diligently at 
their computers.  After a few seconds, EMPLOYEE H breaks 
with a question.

  EMPLOYEE H
  You want a coffee?

EMPLOYEE P
Sure.  Feel like I might be about
to nod off.

EMPLOYEE H stands.

  EMPLOYEE H
Cool.  Two creams, two sugars?

EMPLOYEE P
That'll do it.

EMPLOYEE H turns and exits the room.  After approximately 
15 seconds, the bell rings again.  EMPLOYEE P doesn't seem 
quite as alarmed as before, but she definitely takes notice.  Suddenly, three figures dressed in black, FACILITATORS 1-3, 
enter the room and attack EMPLOYEE P.  They beat her 
mercilessly but methodically, with no spoken communication 
between them.  After approximately 60 seconds, with 
EMPLOYEE P unconscious on the floor behind her desk and not 
visible to the camera, the FACILITATORs leave the room just 
as quickly as they came in.  After approximately 15 more 
seconds, EMPLOYEE H reenters the room with two coffees in 
his hands.  Seeing as EMPLOYEE P is not there, he walks over 
and places the cup on her desk WITHOUT noticing her 
unconscious body behind it.  EMPLOYEE H then returns to his 
desk, puts his coffee down, lifts his briefcase from the 
floor, and draws from it a brown paper lunch bag.  He then 
places the briefcase back on the floor and sits down.  
EMPLOYEE H removes a sandwich from the brown paper lunch 
bag, unwraps it, and begins eating it, staring off at the 
ceiling in a careless manner.

CUT TO BLACK

ROLL END CREDITS

Monday, October 12, 2015

cycling [2010]

for my wife

"The responsibility of the artist consists
in perfecting his work so that it may
become attractively disinteresting."
-- John Cage

[A dozen snotty relationships have suffered similar sinus troubles, and have arrived at the same swollen conclusion: Sometimes smelling isn't everything that it is.]

But, what is...

(1)  Reproaching a slotted stink, the master cheerleader emptied the evening into a sad canteen, and then took to hammering her tropic chimes with the necessary fervor.  The echoes of this particular paradise could be heard throughout the cavity, and they entertained the steady ears, as well.  Soon, flies began to gather around the warmth of this performance, as if it were stuffed fruit, and a significant squirrel, broken from the elusive mind of a poem, sprawled outside the resonating nostrils.  This was the time for all of the devoted to hear.

...nonsense, and what is... 

(2)  The principal speaker entered and immediately raised the question: How long will the other endowment be kept alive?  And, in a blizzard of keen indication, the successfully betrayed sniffer responded: Occasionally.

...a love poem?

(3)  I looked first to the poem which was my dearest; second to the music of the conductor's trumpeter; and, finally, to the finely polished metronome.  Then, after blowing my nose, a cadence was assumed.

This is called Cycling.

[It is a fantastic stench.]

Sunday, October 11, 2015

home [2010]

down the bed at dusk
my concrete hand is alone
pulling along disappearing light
  light softened as a baby
a baby gently turning from the window
as into everyone

from the bed-words falls silence
a secret that will see the old
a sleeping time sliding back
                                     (before beams of deafness
    this creased the continuum)
and it is an even silent without me 
            my spinning earth
     my naked continent
     my concrete hand

                                     but what if     instead 
my blue-white vocabulary 
                                       leaks a smoke signal
as if through a father's need
                                       to see the day darkened     flattened 
and the clouded seams stretch
                                       like the moonlight to her
                                       passing across her sleep
                                       down a favorite world
                                       rewinding the day to dusk
       
she is alone     except for me
            a baby gently turning from the window
     as into everyone
 
  I am asking of you
  a favor:
                                              let your light hit
                                              the November and December holidays
                                             differently this year

Saturday, October 10, 2015

(in order to have it be misconstrued) [2011]

(this is a stage     and it should be perceived as one)


the instruments are being tuned
to the key of H-sharp minor


from the lighting rig
a laborer brought to attention
certain inconsistencies of shadow
by saying: "Get the fuck out of my light!"
  then     it blushed
as it realized it was eating its lunch
off the mark

  it identified the details
of its estrangement
it placed a circumscribed metaphysics
in close relation to its actions     and applied pressure
it observed several rings of purple smoke
ascending to the smiling exhaust fan
  it developed concrete physical behavior
in order to avoid the rubber stamp

and all the while     fetishized behavior machines manufactured countless 
epic forms of contradictory pollution


                                               [INSERT PAID ADVERTISEMENT HERE]


  "what is dangling before you now
is a temptation not unlike that experienced
by your mothers and fathers

it is your patriotic duty
to indulge"


the following is the characterization of a certainty:

            ⎡





 

it is not     in a sundress     smoking Chesterfield Kings     dancing and perspiring     
to free jazz     alone     beside a filthy litter box...


actualization
in order to be vital
a silliness unopened
its brown bag of fool
and displaced it
amongst calorie counters
in the truth to be kitchen


                    [INSERT PAID ADVERTISEMENT HERE]


the machine muzzled all the animals     so that they might not speak contradictions or
recite poetry

  it drew cartoons in a small sketch pad
to best illustrate the incorrect angles of charity

it smoked a purple cigarette
dragging the secrets of its exhausted society

it dealt the tightly packed philosophy
another sparkling     distracting defeat

it grew increasingly alienated
and began to draw with crayons

from the footlights
in an as-yet-undetermined dialect
it addressed the audience directly
and said:     "It's all about being fat, and wanting more."
then     it collapsed
into a multi-colored pile of empty 
fast food containers


the orchestra is playing
and the exits are incorporating its strains


(I've never been so imagined     so staged)