Dawn McGuire


Choose one of the six plots
four ironies, eleven conflicts
and a point of view. The guy
in the theater sits under the
ceiling painted with day-glow
constellations. Isadora Duncan 
is wrapping her scarf 
around Orion’s belt.
He’s waiting for mayhem or the feature
film, scrolling through email, listening 
with one ear to previews.
His good ear, the other
a rag of eardrum, incus in bits,
stapes shot to shit. 
Eternal Vigilance.
He’s lucky, his cousin said,
to have made it back without a prosthesis.
It’s a romantic comedy.
They wouldn’t let his service dog in—
he forgot the special vest—but no big. 
Vulcan can sleep in the truck.
As long as there’s no loud noise.
At this point laughing’s ok.
Ten years of chick flicks
and in real life he still
can’t trust himself
with a girl.