#18 from Untitled Film Poems
Image by Cindy Sherman
Perhaps he was right,
and God was a peeping Tom—
Fiction turned her on.
#13 from Untitled Film Poems
Image by Cindy Sherman
If someone
would have told her
it would be like giving birth
to a checklist of domestic
servitude
and falsely fresh
produce
on a numbingly repeatable basis,
she might have seriously pursued
her childhood dream
of running away with the circus
and giving her body
ala contortion
to a wildly applauding
yet hands-off audience.
#10 from Untitled Film Poems
Image by Cindy Sherman
From where she sat,
the house seemed to be
swaddled in sheer gauze,
and flickering, like a light
that was about to go out.
She considered adjusting her view
to dispel what must be an illusion,
but there was something terribly satisfying
about the polarizing effects
of her, here,
and them, there,
and what would happen, if.
#9 from Untitled Film Poems
Image by Cindy Sherman
John Biscello 