Being Famous Poem by Nancy Ames

It must be like opening a new door
in a familiar wall, the one with the
photograph, the same old photograph
but starting to look so strange, just
a quick impression and then a flash
of final lime-light as the irresistible
wind pushes you outside, out into
outer space, where the view is always
magnificent - nothing but the best
death for you, baby - and then falling
back down to earth as celestial debris,
universal rain...

And all the over-active wave-lengths
have to reduce their amplitude and
frequency so that light can become
a particle again and feed the hungry
multitudes with circuses.