there is no grace in act five only the nerves insect like twitches involuntary bowel movements and confusion a snail in salt doesn t fall asleep with a half smile like grandma from the after school special it twists and contorts it jerks and writhes for some time like a living severed limb on fire all the people who taught me card tricks are dying i ve been trying to get my pop pop s good looks from old snapshots and all the people who taught me card tricks are dying i ve been trying to steal my grandfather s handsome from old photographs even if the world is saved and the couples kiss before the credits list there will be more than a lifetime of death in the scrambled signal snow that s left when the black intake runs out the invisible frame s death tacked to your movie reel far outweigh the reel itself all the people who taught me card tricks are dying i ve been trying to get my pop pop s good looks from old snapshots and all the people who taught me card tricks are dying i ve been trying to steal my grandfather s handsome from old photographs there is no grace in act five a circus tent and all the folding chairs fit in an old coffin for travel a circus tent and all the folding chairs fit in an old coffin for travel1