Realizing my dream performance in “Fidelio”
I am touched by everyone now alive,
softest jazz, lower right, your lips moving up, down,
talking design shit. Someone’s naive mirror sale, for example.

Someone’s book is staring out the window, saved-up.
So, with regard to static and its ovular window, stasis —
it’s not who grinned first that counts, but also where
and however. That’s my middle point for the interim,

realizing my dream performance in “Fidelio.”