Holding my receipt up to the light
like a Cindy Sherman deke,
I distracted the affable attendant
leaving me more time to caress and hump.
The banging on the other side was empty
of any viable sound, reformed or procedural.
Corruption, the famous video artist,
used a folding chair as a prop.
It was light and he could lift it easily
smacking his assistants, an army of idealums,
if they didn't meld in the crowd scene.
He needed an even pitched low hum.
Wasn't getting it, stared upward disappointed
in the acoustics of his big room.

Colin James has a couple of chapbooks of poetry published. Dreams Of The Really Annoying from Writing Knights Press and A Thoroughness Not Deprived of Absurdity from Piski's Porch Press and a book of poems, Resisting Probability, from Sagging Meniscus Press. Formally from the UK, he now lives in Massachusetts.