by Suzán Jiván
Soundtrack samplings
without nasty narratives
for comparison
Tins of Old Masters
as fractional instances
on disparate cash
Thoroughly branded
lavishly feathered flapper
as largely barren
Longstanding fashion
like canvas-woven patterns
becoming grounded
As mutinous mates
grinning or grimacing mouths
daring gagged and bound
In final shootouts
of pink circular patterns
cut up and cut out
As home or homebound
serving as a foil for now
becoming spellbound
In a grid of black
as sumptuously tactile
zigzagging off track
Angle by angle
denatured abstract soundtrack
encouraged perhaps
Loosely translated
subversive second solo
not so long ago...
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