Tag Archives: Daniel M. Shapiro

You’re Every Move You Make*

Like all of us, he begins as a dot; the crowd would retain its definition without him. He knows gaslight only as a noun. When the eye zooms in to make out his identity, two men emerge to grasp his … Continue reading

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All Those Hands We Never Met*

They told her she could tell her life story as a comic book. They vowed not to interfere. Page One, Frame One: Boyfriend kisses her when she doesn’t want to be kissed. Screen-printed on boyfriend’s shirt is a target. Page … Continue reading

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No One Can Tell Us We’re Wrong*

You might not know what’s linear. Of course it’s time to run, time to grow up because you’re ready. You’ll think on a bus, think about making it in the arts. Even a non-dancer like you can learn enough moves … Continue reading

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And When It Rains*

We all know someone who’s the umbrella in the alcoholic’s drink. The band we like smiles at 128 bpm while its minds creep, while directors shoot/reverse-shoot keyboards that change the subject. Women might seem better at it, caking on more … Continue reading

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All I Need Is What You’ve Got*

A band of men is given carte blanche to make its own propaganda. The band of men looks nervous. Too much freedom can make people nervous. The powers try to relax the band: You’ll feel better if you picture everyone … Continue reading

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