contretemps

Shooting the brisé, but then
it all went to shit. Jumped
off one foot, beat the legs to-
gether; & then the room was
filled with Shakespeare folios,

each clamoring for some time
on stage. Comes a plié, & all
the wannabees crawl out
between the legs & the knees
aligned with toes & vanish

from the stage. Save one, who
looks for an audience that isn't
there so orates towards the dark
at the back of the room: "My
liege, I did deny no prisoners."