when

poetry prof asks you to write about an early memory, an historical event and to describe someone you hate without naming them... you write about your best friend face planting off a concrete wall at the feria in seville on your fourth birthday. you write about the death of silent film. you describe stephen harper as acidic and frigid.
then she tells you to write a poem using all three pieces. what?

finally:

lights fall down a darkening sky
(before they turn again).
carnival spires spin through the dusk—
as you walk the line.
from beneath a curtain of frailty,
marble eyes fight ferris wheels
for clearer visions of you.
you tilt--
falling down from concrete heights,
unwound.
marble softens to shrouded lies,
an opaque doorway in the night.

the process was painful. the poem? questionable.