The mime motions for a volunteer.
A young man emerges from the crowd.
The mime tips an imaginary hat.
The young man likewise.
Chuckles mingle among the onlookers.
The mime holds his pretend hat
to his head, leans
against an imaginary wind.
The young man does his best.
The mime nods.
The mime presses his hands
against the walls
of an invisible box,
crouches and pushes
his chin to his chest.
The box is shrinking.
When it appears the mime
is about to be squashed,
he strains his hands above him
and, arms trembling,
struggles to his feet.
The young man tries
to imitate the maneuver,
but the invisible box
continues contracting.
The young man’s mouth opens
in a silent scream until
he disappears.
Someone holds up a phone,
shouts Viral video!
The mime sweeps a bow,
motions for another volunteer.
Twenty hands shoot up.
(end)
Saragun Springs 
Extraordinarily fine piece. Hensonesque clarity & depth – & I say that as one familiar with David’s work in LS – as well as his many shorter fictions as they appeared in Microfiction Monday. Another little masterpiece.
Geraint
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Thank you, Geraint! I miss Microfiction Monday. So nice to now have an eclectic journal like Saragun Springs.
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David
Could be Mime’s Revenge for all the grief they take. Tremendous visual this creates. Terrifies the clausterphobic in me!
Leila
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Hi, Leila. The image is bad for my claustrophobia, too, and the box being invisible didn’t help!
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Great images, totally engages the reader.
A strong vibrant teaching example of “Show don’t tell” in writing.
Also very original, turning a mime into something like a magician was outstanding!
The poem feels like a sinister trick. Awesome! Amazing! And any other A-plus thing I could think of!
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Thank you, Chris. I much appreciate your comment!
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Great images, totally engages the reader.
A strong vibrant teaching example of “Show don’t tell” in writing.
Also very original, turning a mime into something like a magician was outstanding!
The poem feels like a sinister trick. Awesome! Amazing! And any other A-plus thing I could think of!
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Hi CJA
Your comment echoed! Tried to remove it, but echoes are strong. Still it is worth saying twice!
Leila
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Hi Leila
It was strange. Not sure what happened. Felt like a stalker!
CJA
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This is very believable in this crazy world. dd
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Hi, Diane. Yes it’s sad that this is believable.
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I don’t comment on free verse, as a rule, because I don’t feel competent. Breaking my rule here, because the narrative was so strong – it completely drew me in. And I reckon breaking it up, line by measured line, gave that narrative such a strong pace. Thought this was great. mick
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Hi, Mick. This could’ve been prose, but it seemed to work better lined. I appreciate your commenting on that.
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David
The rhythm of this poem, created by making full stops at the ends of many of the lines, really does a great job in creating tension, suspense, and forward motion.
This poem has an almost-perfect shape. And “almost-perfect” is actually BETTER than merely “perfect,” because “perfect” (so-called) almost ends up being dead in most cases.
Modern poetry needs an element of irregularity to make it REAL. And this poem feels real, very real.
The incident this poem focuses on (and/or creates) is Kafkaesque in the best of ways, allusive, almost like a direct allusion to Kafka, which gives this piece many added layers and levels it wouldn’t otherwise have. (This poem could be recited aloud by Orson Welles himself in his film THE TRIAL.)
All in all, this thing is so good AS A POEM that I don’t think it can be a story in prose, even though it is also a narrative in verse.
Great work!
Dale
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Thanks, Dale. It’s always a pleasure to read, and learn from, your comments.
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