I told an actress I wanted to use
a body-double of her for the scene
of her playing you. She said I was mean,
said she was an actress who paid her dues,
said she could fake all the physical cues
and make people believe what they have seen
watching her match a soundtrack so serene.
I said you’d know, said flutes fight for their views.
She said, “Who the hell cares what a flute thinks?”
She stomped off to pout in her dressing room,
stopping, once, to curse at some technician.
A director can shrug off the high jinks
and the threats and sobbing of doom and gloom.
So you’ll get blown by a real musician.
a body-double of her for the scene
of her playing you. She said I was mean,
said she was an actress who paid her dues,
said she could fake all the physical cues
and make people believe what they have seen
watching her match a soundtrack so serene.
I said you’d know, said flutes fight for their views.
She said, “Who the hell cares what a flute thinks?”
She stomped off to pout in her dressing room,
stopping, once, to curse at some technician.
A director can shrug off the high jinks
and the threats and sobbing of doom and gloom.
So you’ll get blown by a real musician.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Ode To An American Zombie
A Short Ode To A Quick Sketch
Ode To “Smallville”
Ode To The Concept Of Cotton Candy
Motion Toward And Away—Ode To Pamela
Clockwork Musicians
This Makes Me Think Of “The Swan”
Affannato
Harps And Flutes, Swans And Monsters
Los Angeles, Nonetheless, Is
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