less Twin Peaks, more Ru Paul’s Drag Race less velvet, more velour less Dom Pérignon, more André less diamond, more zirconia less UV, more Faux Glow less sugar, more Splenda less manchego, more Velveeta less treadmill, more Skechers Shape-Ups less café, more Facebook less grass-fed beef, more T.G.I. Friday’s potato skins less pitch, more Auto-Tune &c.
Plot Point Two
I love so much to arrive blubbering upon plot point two the part where
the protagonist is driving in the rain or her lover has been unfaithful
or his mother is not really his mother or all three at once It is then when
I clutch my cherry cola and bite down on the straw and am so grateful
for the Hollywood Formula for Syd Field and those men in black glasses
who sat in back rooms tapping cigars charting the hills and valleys of story
I love to anticipate the sad part 60 minutes in when everything seems
hopeless but really you know the rain is manufactured and the hoary
old man in the garret will get his memory back and reveal that the hero’s
mom is really his mom and his best friend’s mom too and all along the love
they’d loved had been tucked like a script inside their cells And when I think
how in life I don’t know when plot points will pour down from above
I tug at my hair and gnarl my eyebrows and offer desperate frantic praise
for the staged break-up under the antique lamppost’s haze No praise
for flat coke and wrinkled straw and the sicksweet ache my stomach gets
warning me of the bad thing that hasn’t come but is coming one of these days
-- Becca Klaver is the author of the poetry collection LA Liminal (Kore Press, 2010) and the chapbook Inside a Red Corvette: A 90s Mix Tape (greying ghost press, 2009). She holds a BA from the University of Southern California and an MFA from Columbia College Chicago, and is currently a PhD student in Literatures in English at Rutgers University. A founding editor of the feminist poetry press Switchback Books, she is also a member of the VIDA: Women in Literary Arts outreach committee.