Have brain damage,
that’s not really politics.
It’s a funeral.
Who would see The Last Tree Trunk on Earth?
Critics say it’s a good movie.
It’s spills bad.
It was filmed inside Iran
in secret trees.
It’s got a wallop to it.
You see freedom up close
thrown out in the street and beaten on.
You see it shot with knives.
This is a real camera folks,
and girls just want to have their scarves
not choke them to death.
Is anybody watching this?
Can anybody care?

The Seed of the Sacred Fig
was put in the wrong house.
Brilliant you hear the arguments at the table
theocracy speaks,
but it’s shot in red and white,
and we practice human nature
with a murdering gun.
We do not show human nature.
A father and daughter are not that red apart,
suddenly,
unexpectedly,
so the plot can aim its gun.
Would a family go mad,
horribly so,
for a strength to resist evil
that none of them felt they had?
An entire lifetime together
with daddy milk
and a mother devoted to everyone,
it lands on the freeway
I will hunt you down and kill you
love said.

How tall these movies are
in our backyard.
They bring humanity under the gun.
Has human nature been robbed of its sense?
It’s blow out of proportion
so it can impress audiences
and score award points.
We see human nature sick and dying
in movie after movie,
and we can’t get over the villain.
He is so perfect in his craft,
miraculously a monster
just doing the impossible.
We love to hate him,
and if it’s a her all the more.

They’ve confused us
with what’s real.
Human people don’t act like that,
and these movies have us all alarmed,
riding out our hate
in tickets sold.
What’s the point of all this mess?
Make more bucks,
and let’s take these artistic challenges
and make them rob people wear.
My God that’s a talented movie
just on our disease.

Alejandro in Problemista
almost makes the villain human,
but then he wrote the apology.
We’d have to go to Sing Sing for a good movie
in emotional fare,
so Shakespeare on Earth.
Let’s not get too gay in National Anthem
and spoil the show.
We have purpose in our lives
this movie knows not of.
You wear a good Holocaust
in A Real Pain,
tryin’ to show it right,
on the level of human eyes
a human drama.
What am I doin’?
Showin’ you my movie list.
I watch a lot of movies.
I’m really into them.
This is the way we spend human nature,
in identifying roles.
We get involved with a part.
We identify with a character,
a plot.
It wears our lives
in symbolic meaning.
We get at the stuff.

We invest ourselves there
oh so strongly.
We’re raped
with a bad ending.
A good movie can make us feel good about ourselves
and improve our lives.
It can heal.
It can do bad things.
It can tear up our lives
for a moment of all meaning.
It is so very powerful,
cinema.
It goes directly to the starting point,
where our lives came from and why.
Alejandro is good at this.
Amazing creativity
those scenes where he’s talkin’ to someone,
and it shows the whereabouts,
the representative part.

Drum roll please.
We are creative edges of time.
We stand and sing our lives
an entertainment for deep meaning.
So many roles wear our lives.
Can you get at the audience?
Being after being,
shrouded in unimaginable mystery,
have a total immersion gamble with our lives.
Of course we like movies.
We are there.

A Rumpelstiltskin comes along and plays the keyboard,
and we’re on bended ground
unable to figure out destiny,
but we can get back to ourselves.
Audience after audience prevents us,
the cliffhanger of our lives
their entertainment point,
but they value our lives
in our bid for freedom
and to discover who we are.
It’s their thrill.
They clap when the angels sing.

Are you crazy yet?
You’re just gettin’ started.
There is so much behind the scenes
in the dragnet of who you are.
I cannot show this to you,
the person you are on high,
the actor that has donned
this long line of all these lives.
I can only keep tryin’
in poem after poem and my symbolic life,
but it’s a farce you know.
I’ve really let yah down,
right where you needed me,
and there’s no way to make that up.
When you see it’s a game,
though a meaningful one,
know like you know the body you wear,
because you have seen it with your own eyes,
that you are an actor in a cage,
a player playin’ time,
the first thing you do is fuck up.
It’s the proud of human nature.
It’s so stupid.

It prevents me from showing you who I am
and who you are,
unimaginably big,
but that’s life,
a goddamn movie

that just throws you for a loop,
and you can never get it right
until you stop the pretendin’
and come together on yourself
what you need beyond time.
You’re not the audience I’m speakin’ to when I say
I’m puttin’ on those shoes.
Feel the thrill?
A poet measure
this poet smiles.

How do you chew on that poem?
We grow in stadiums.
A Watcher watches our lives.
It’s dream big.
It’s not who we are the audience
in prerecorded time.
This is not the first time creation mount.
Great DVDs we live
for their viewing pleasure.
We are that Watcher you see,
not the audience pang,
and we can’t get over him.
It’s too stadium big.
It transcends time and space,
but above our roofs it’s there,
the hidden keeper of our lives,
who we return to,
the one who started it all
in our little universe.

You don’t believe me I know,
but you’d like to.
The hidden meaning of our lives
are compassionate witnesses
beyond number and form.
Everywhere they look
they are there
the meaning behind creation
on this bended globe,
in this starstruck universe,
and they change us with a look
the bearing on time.
They are the Watchers behind time
watchin’ the movie us
them very selves in time.
Can you feel them?

Your true self,
they bring you home.
Months of capacity
open those gates,
if you’re ready for them again,
and you’ve been there before
for a brief moment
a time or two
in all your many lives
where afterlife grows.
It's a certainty you remember.
It’s a certainty you hold in your skies
that you farm into your very ground
I’ve planted this poem with,
a vehicle of my own return
one sudden afternoon
before the death of me.
You come up with yourself
in the ultimate game of life,
the ultimate paradox of life.
That’s a round of applause.
You hear the whole stadium sing
your great escape,
your victorious mile
I put better in progress.

Alejandro,
he did it.
I’ve seen what movies
list as our great surprise.
Too mundane to take it
where we meet beyond the universe,
they give it gas and go.
Are you hearin’ this?