seated by the bedside of a

said street...a flower girl hunkers

down a misreading of color, that

claims family to spring's own.

Chaplin fidgets takes--wala, and it's

ramifying  light years in black &

white, yin and yang proposing to

one another at the same time.

rumpus of a penguin-footed mage.

production costs haunted by the

obsessive revisitation of a moment in

time, that only the right take could

liberate.

rheumatoid arthritis of bad directions,

as skyscrapers nicked by forwarding

motion.

a car door interrupts soundlessness.

the syllable of a first fold--emitting off a local

screen.

Charlie's obstinacy from the first flit of onscreen

voices.

the flower opens...the flower girl smiles.

more overpoweringly than she weeps.

supposedly confusing Charlie's purchase,

offering change to an unwitting elderly gentleman

that enters a car whose door slams, startling

cinematic history.

too spare for the things she thought she

couldn't see...

as it were, Charlie could not abscond

from the blind flower girl.

he actually fired and rehired the same

actress.

she finally doused him with a flower ***,

as he attempted to sit beside her.