Where's The Film Crew? Poem by Julia Luber

And one's fate is so entwined with knowledge. But she wanted to wipe out
what she did know. And fill that whole orientation with not even doubt-
but something far more of a vacuum. As if a whole block of ones memoirs
had been closed, locked, and sealed away in a deep underground tomb.

What she was knowing felt nothing like the winning and fun of a game-show rolling.
Where trivia and tidbits from here and there somehow mastermind one's goal polling.
A count is being reached. These people have something to teach: in how their mind's
retain so much information and knowledge that clearly ignorance is a terrible stain.

But my character knows nothing about the place she is in. Same language, different accent,
brickety brack hodge podge higgledy piggledy like sin. She doesn't know where this chock
a block street finally goes to. Destination to her husband's family far away in another land,
Where's the film crew? Knowing the village and tilling the sun- explaining how things happen

Here could be fun. Would it all be easier if it were just a film set? Spelling out where things
go and who should say what with all life pret? Would it be easier to be on the clock?
Getting paid, phase-out fade and not actual absent of mental stock? She did not know where
she was but all felt familiar, as if in some other life, in charm, she loved who was killing her.