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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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