by Suzán Jiván, Mom
& Mom-Mom Suzán
Distractingly low-key tendencies
scraping away on turntables
of scalable transformation
reinforced on stage with segues
of digital playback flanked
by video displays in commercial ranks
on the two largest stages
with tempo changes
dubbed with reggae
shouted and sweated away
as the body vibrates
mining dark themes late in a career
with a scrapy, trowelly thingie
scribbling ideas
on buried mysteries
vanishing non-fiction
lacking in spirit
at once perfunctory
curiously and haphazardly
as a jerry-built narrative
unsatisfyingly magical
like slapdash disappearing acts
absurdly melodramatic
yet supernatural
desperately unhappy
with the tone of a struck match
as a declarer ruffs a dummy
playing a club in negative doubles
becoming willing to grin and cringe
for anyone interested in bidding
signing up online worldwide
by waggling
a minutely refined behind
attempting to hide
while waiting in line
for the bobsled ride...
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