She makes short films

Carrying a camera

Editing through sunny weekends





Her movies are about

Shopping carts or mice

She sends rockets into space





She puts punk music in a veil

She makes films about growing up

And moving away





Her father calls late on Sundays

He has a Turkish accent

He asks when she'll be home





She is out with a boyfriend

I tell him she'll be back later

Her films are about races





She has friends act as announcers

She rarely uses scripts

Her films are free-form





She makes movies

As though playing acid jazz

One film might have been about suicide





She makes you ask questions

She keeps a messy room

She made a documentary on bicycling





She is low-tech and earthy

I've seen her on days when she hates herself

Her dad flies her back to Iowa





She is like a river off the mountain

She filmed me once

With only one eye at the lens





She wears earphones

She makes sure the light is just right

She is a filmmaker trying to survive