Two hours of film
in a frame.
A poster.
Crinkled, ripped, uneven.
Paper is sharp, covered
in tape, blutac, thumbtacks.
It may bite.
All the men's eyes are wild
and afraid.
Except Brad Pitt's.
Shirtless, cut on his chest,
smoking a cigarette.
"How much can you really know about yourself
if you've never been in a fight?"
Blowing fan catches his image;
it hits the wall like the crack of a knuckle.
Sweaty, bloody, tiumphant odor
nearly escapes ink barriers.
----
thoughts?
in a frame.
A poster.
Crinkled, ripped, uneven.
Paper is sharp, covered
in tape, blutac, thumbtacks.
It may bite.
All the men's eyes are wild
and afraid.
Except Brad Pitt's.
Shirtless, cut on his chest,
smoking a cigarette.
"How much can you really know about yourself
if you've never been in a fight?"
Blowing fan catches his image;
it hits the wall like the crack of a knuckle.
Sweaty, bloody, tiumphant odor
nearly escapes ink barriers.
----
thoughts?
