Let's workshop this poem about a celebrity's moment of rebellion against the invasive nature of fame, expressed through the act of scratching a tinted window with her diamond ring.
Who?
Sick of all the interviews and shoots,
all the moving her around
(repositioning too often
with sly gropes)—the sex symbol,
in a tiny pocket of privacy
before red-carpet flashes,
scratches her schoolgirl itch:
scratching glass (in this case,
tinted window) with diamond.
“We need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.”—Kafka (against the safe-space cancel culture pushed by anti-art bullies, left and right)