Freeze frame, Slow frame, Lost frame & Disorganized frame
by Kristine Ong Muslim
[ poetry - july 07 ]
Freeze frame
Protagonist looks stronger now,
the darkness behind him, the white line
on the road recedes as if to remind
us of a boundary that must exist
between us and him - the hero
who breaks his toys, only because
toys do not shatter on their own.
The end credits scroll until lights out.
Slow frame
Protagonist revels - he is the flood,
and we are the city below his
churning brown waters. We navigate,
plod on tainted ground, do not ask
why we are here. The movie house is
merely a place, a random destination
where Protagonist pillages, lingers
before the bones of his kill.
Lost frame
The final reel did not contain this segment where
Protagonist was supposed to die - for logic's sake.
The producer threw his coffee cup onto the
screenplay writer's chest, told him that this was
Hollywood. Nobody should act like a non-idiot
in front of his boss. And truth, truth was a hired gun
that never got the bounty, so Protagonist got
the girl, sailed on, blasted entrails and all.
Disorganized frame
The color of the walls is that of subsoil
which has not seen the sun for years -
shrivelled along the edges, mold at the core.
Protagonist on the couch. Deadpan on his
smile, perfected by a Manhattan dentist.
The billboards use this still; it has no point,
gives the storyline more depth. The movie critics
call it flair.
Only the tabloids insist otherwise.
