The Truman Show
THE TRUMAN SHOW
Truman keeps his secret hope—
the one that there’s a bubble that will pop
one day, and all the reflections sprinkle
on his palm like dew on a well-
manicured lawn—locked in his chest
deep in the basement. He knows it’s
fragile as his sanity, and liable to snap
like a ship’s mast if he brings it up
from the dark for one more person
to tell him to keep it light, especially someone
he loves. Sometimes at night he stays awake,
piecing together fragments of a face
he can’t see clearly but can’t quite forget,
the one which will sail him to the edge
of the world, become a door, and pull him
through into darkness. The transmission
cuts as someone mutters Jesus Christ,
and Christof sighs then, having tried
even false fathers to sedate
his charge, reduced to nothing now that
Truman is saved into becoming
another nobody.
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