a tip of the hat

a tip of the hat

Two seats to my left,

an empty between,

but she might as well

have been on my lap 

because the scene 

of her snoring  

had become synonymous

with my heart beat.

“Hey,” I whispered.

“Sorry,” she said startling awake.

“Meh,” I responded.

“It’s forgivable due to the nature

of what we’ve seen.”

Relieved she screamed,

“It’s a bit indulgent, isn’t it?”

An idiom indeed;

after the 75th page 

of voiceover on screen

an epoch of pleonasm 

became apparent to me.

(I had to look up those words too,

but the difference 

between me and you 

and the filmmaker,

is that 

she 

is probably unwilling to admit 

the fact that

she 

didn’t understand 

most of the words

she 

was speaking.)

Like a president

giving a speech on TV

or a student 

fresh off the press 

with a Master’s Degree,

life’s a precipice 

for climbing,

not necessarily a test

for taking, 

because what’s the use 

of studying

if you only do it 

for it 

one day 

to cease?

A period of a person's life

marked by notable events 

and defined with 

more words than necessary 

hiding meaning 

behind a faux reality,

like a tow-truck 

pulling your car 

through a drive-thru 

while you 

are still inside it.

“Are you here

for a specific film?”

“My husband and I,”

she elbowed him.

“Just got back from Sundance

last week.”

My interest peaked,

“How was that conversation?”

Her eyes opened 

just as the film 

began to end.

“I was more concerned 

with the lack of concessions

and can you believe 

tonight’s happy hour 

ends at seven?”

A Q&A afterwards 

during which the moderator

had apparently 

been given instructions 

to command 

a tightly worded script,

“With the toxic 

male driven narratives of today

how liberating 

is it to be a woman 

on this stage?”

“Add to that,” they said.

(and by ‘they’

I mean the groups of today 

that think that 

making a selection 

based off of race, 

gender, or religion

isn’t the same old

‘king of the hill’ game)

“You’re a person of color,

it’s like someone checked a box

for what we wanted 

and you fit right in,” she winked.

It might have been interesting

if the alleged film critic 

could’ve made a comment 

on the work itself

instead of having a committee

specifically select a story

that bookended with what 

they were trying to sell,

their racism and sexism 

wasn’t liberty,

but in fact

with that 

identity 

they were building her a cage,

and in that crowd

I was in the minority

seeing it in her eyes

as they led her away.