Toning it down
So you can take a breather
Changing the rhythm
So the notes ring cleaner
Gather your thoughts
Reflect on the last scene
Give your eyes a rest
You don’t have to scream

How about some acoustic guitar
Maybe a string quartet
Something to cement the coming scene
You ain’t seen nothing yet
The protagonist is counting his blessings
The antagonist is recovering his ideas
Will there be more victims after the interlude
The biggest victim here is going to be you

As the lights dim in the theatre
The audience quietens down
Except the jockstrap in row thirteen
Can’t keep his fucking voice down
Who gave the pigtailed kid
The crunchiest snack in the world
The tall woman wearing her Ascot hat
Half the room seeing only half a flick

Filmed in black and white and gritty shots
Seems like it was filmed during the war
More shadows than a Hank Marvin comeback LP
But will the audience scream for more
This is my life and it’s all I have
Stitched together poem by poem by verse
Only the more enthusiastic sees what I see
A Hollywood monster chasing after me

I inserted a clever interlude
So you could all without being rude
Slither down to buy a maxi cola
Buy sickly sweet nuts and frozen food
If you didn’t come to be entertained
Why are you holding up the front row
Checking your blocked twitter feed
Hoping that your friends help it grow

Did you only come to this cinema
To get your filthy paws on Brenda
Taking her to the alarmingly sticky seats
Just out of view where the projectionist
Can’t spy on you
Did the interlude mean you had to stop chewing
On the neck of your highschool sweetheart
Who only came because her other boyfriend
Is addicted to steroids and has an erection problem

Do you like watching the screen
As other people’s lives play out before you
All the gory details the over the top sex scenes
The next door neighbour who looks like Jason Momoa
Is this an escape from your reality
Into someone else’s dream
Who wrote this dickpic to escape from his
Monotonous world
Yet as he had never met a girl or kissed a lady
All the scenes where out of proportion like some rolled up socks in a teenagers underwear

Where is the story here?
On the silver screen or on the creaking seats
At the back of this seedy and tarnished cinema
Is the story you escaping from the social realism that hangs like a stench outside those flimsy doors
All the rapist and muggers and corrupt policeofficers outside
Discussing and profiling their soon to be victims
So they can wank and sleep easy tonight
Knowing that their fantasies have come true
After their victims fantasies came true
On the backseat of the cinema

Where is the prelude here
The adverts between act one and act two
Is the prelude you going to the cinema
After twenty years of waiting for someone to take you
Knowing you will never visit it again
The cinemas are in ruin
Netflix’s has murdered the competition
Disney has removed Star Wars from the cold violent streets
So you can watch the stormtroopers die in the comfort of your rented home
What if the prelude became extinct
No pause between scenes
Just violent act after violent act
Each story intense as another
Every song a work of art
No filler to make the film 90 minutes long
No love lost
No directors cut twenty years after
No time for suspense or nervous laughter
No time to ogle the curves of who sits uncomfortably next you
On with the show