Act Five

There is no grace in act five
 Only the nerves, insect-like twitches
 Involuntary bowel movements, and confusion
 a snail in salt doesn't fall asleep
 with a half-smile
 like Grandma from the after-school special
 it twists and contorts
 it jerks and writhes for some time
 like a living severed limb on fire
 All the people who taught me card tricks are dying
 I've been trying
 to get my pop-pop's good looks from old snapshots
 And all the people who taught me card tricks are dying
 I've been trying
 to steal my grandfather's handsome from old photographs
 Even if the world is saved
 And the couples kiss before the credits list
 There will be more than a lifetime of death
 In the scrambled signal snow that's left
 when the black intake runs out
 the invisible frames death tacked to your movie reel
 far outweigh the reel itself
 All the people who taught me card tricks are dying
 I've been trying
 to get my poppa's good looks from old snapshots
 And all the people who taught me card tricks are dying
 I've been trying
 to steal my grandfather's handsome from old photographs
 There is no grace in act five
 A circus tent and all the folding chairs fit in an old coffin for travel
 A circus tent and all the folding chairs fit in an old coffin for travel