Watching the Oscars
Shallow—you say. I agree—Meaningless glitter.
Still, it is less ordinary
than the laundry, the commuting of our suburban story.
Spiraling creamy gowns and upright tuxedoes pose; they story-
tell tonight. They glitter
like dewdropped calla lilies; their ordinary
selves dormant, rhizomes that burrow into ordinary
muck, compost detritus into story.
Their motion pictures flicker out from shadow, flashes of glitter,
drawing us to our reflection, our stories. See—they say—your ordinary glittering life.