Director's Cut and Paste, Revisited, Part 2
When a stranger calls,
the shining
city lights
die hard
behind enemy lines.
I walk the line
out of the past
roots,
where the red fern grows
in cold blood
of mice and men.
The thin red line
short cuts
a nightmare on Elm Street.
The searchers
don't look now
within these walls.
In the heat of the night,
the illusionist
cast away
titanic
cries and whispers.
The silence of the lambs
never cry wolf
while you were sleeping.
(Each line is a separate movie title.)
Copyright © Juliet Ligon | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment