Who needs two eyes
when the show is dull
and the right people go?

It’s so America,
so nineteen fifties,
so Main Street nostalgic, so
Karl-Marx’s-brain-would-explode-by-the-time-he-hit-the-churro-cart capitalistic.

O, corkscrew—
You’re supposed to be easier,
easier than the one with
bird wings that press down,
and pull the cork up,

In bed does he shout, “Action!”?
At some point does he say, “Cut,
let’s try that again.”?
I don’t know about you
but I couldn’t handle
242 takes.

Sometimes you just want to draw characters with stormclouds for hair. And sometimes, when you do, you make a medical breakthrough. You’re welcome.