high school french film festival

oui? criminel! sounds from a projector
in the language of bullets and screaming with
laughter exploding from our seats


as the phony boy on the screen kneels over
without so much as a trace of red,
and our stomachs heave out what gluttony


we had for lunch. but I can still see
the expression on the child director’s face,
c’est pas amusant, his eyes speak out


from his position on the auditorium stage.
i think he had his purposes,
maybe it was for his country, to bring


in some light to elict a sort of blink,
but instead we hawed out
what we love, and i am still not sure


whether we offended him or not.






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