Adaptation
i walk the dog
before the curtain rises
on this inevitable dawn
as a flock of wild geese
passes overhead & i listen
through the fog to their report
on act one of this new season
a single goose has gone off course
his forlorn cry announcing
the arrival of a plot twist
i did not anticipate & the poem
takes an unexpected left turn
it doesn't matter who the bride is
in the cast of characters
we give our audience
when in the end, we are all
subject to veering off course in the fog,
crash landing in a snow bank
& walking barefoot through the drift
only the lucky will be able to say
they brought a tablecloth
with them from the reception
to cover their bare arms against the cold
it is clear to see that no matter
how many strangers fill the
reception hall, in the end
the clean up eventually
comes down to you alone
as the guests are far too
involved with collecting mementos
to be concerned with the laundry quarters
you end up carrying in your bag
and in the end the best any of us
can hope for is a graceful exit
with no call for an encore
& a safe flight home in the fog
for Charlie Kaufman
