// Filmmaker

Not Rita James

 
 

It’s Not Rita James

The heartbeat is still there 

Flip-flop flip-flop

Not going anywhere

Bloodwork and fluorescent lights bring the red out 

I’ll poke you again and again…

I’m lost in a lightness or facing my lack of sleep

No drug could occupy


I see through my window

Humans in zip ties 

Flat green grass beneath them 

Waiting for the sun

The bloodwork


Was this a mistake?


Seeing the glossy photographs 

Nathaniel 

Alfred 

James 

James 

James


Can they see me through my window? 

Not trying - hooked in - bleeding 

Out?


Her name is a soul

Imagined in red paint on faces and hands

Breaking the needles so it can bleed on the green grass


Should I run out?

Or text my friends some distorted

Distanced

Detached picture?


I’m busy, but heartbroken


Can you believe this shit?


Yes


Will you accept me in a green field 

Clear of bodies

Lit by the sun

Standing but short 

Lined with words that signal a future you belong to? 

Once isolated by political nothingness

Jobless

Giving blood for money? 

I want to promise change for you 


My window is a one-way revolution

Cornered bare walls

Soft jazz playing behind me

In this room, today, you’re not Rita James 

somewhere else I guess you belong, but not to me.                 

(April 28th, 2024)