RESIDUALS
At the dark intersection of convergent shadowsThere lies an orphan thumb tack,A silent menace to unshod feet,Waiting to jolt me awake from the dream.And it wouldn’t come as an unwelcome surprise.I’ve been experiencing life in syndication.Living off the residuals of tired plotsAnd oft quoted tag lines:"To the moon, Alice!"“Lucy, I’m home!”“Son of a gun!”“Dyno-mite!”How many re-runs does it takeTill you run out of reasons for watching?My publicist was admitted to rehab.My agent never returns my calls.The last time I walked the red carpetWas in a black and white photograph.But I did look stunning!