By Daniel Romo
Sometimes they set up a sequel,
a forgetful follow-up born from
unexpected profit.
An expedited script
sacrificing plot for striking while
the cinematic iron’s hot.
On the outskirts of a remote, rural town
a villain is introduced.
A close-up reveals the whites of his eyes
legitimize the nameless night.
Elsewhere, a hero’s thread is left untied,
dangling in front of studio execs in the form
of potential dollar signs.
But who has patience when tubs of popcorn
are so simple to make.
When processed ingredients in nacho cheese
is so easy to please tastebuds.
Each name on the screen is only visible for seconds
and disappears,
solely into families’ memories.
Best Boys become unruly orphans.
Key Grips lose grasp on their equipment.
Costume Designers can’t even cover up
their naked bodies!
Because patrons are too anxious to hurry home,
and feud or fuck or fall asleep.
Too ready to star back into their own lives
where there are no special effects.
And any crashes or explosions that occur
are all too real.
