November 2, 2002

Vaguely familiar these suspect
vixen eyes blur having nothing so they
believe on which to gaze. Thirteen minutes
of disquiet and transition, as they wait
for the demise of contestant number one.
Hardly one to primp and preen this would-be
of the ragged veil of aging, with the weight of
the years resting gently on her brow, she
mills about and about with purpose.
With a vague wonder and subtle disappointment
the ritual commences. Everything in place, if it
has one, shown to be less specific than one
might have though, the shadows betray
traces of ugliness, and we are less
than disappointed


"Fire and Water, before it closed"