Sonnet: Morphine Wreckage
Gun crews seemed good and were in good spirits.
When shooting begins, changes are inevitable.
I have no preconceived ideas, no desire to have made
the second-greatest film ever. Slowly, the ship
moved into dry-dock for hull inspection. Several
prospective jurors were released due to “unfortunate”
experiences with police. Scuttlebutt was thick
in the jury room, the jurors trying to piece together
a narrative from contradictory elements. She goes
below, and her fingers trail over the door lintel
as she passes from view. After the first showing
they thought their careers were over, but much too
much anguish has been spilled by those who quickly
judge writers by their middle names alone. Stop.
Hal
Halvard Johnson
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