“The camera never lies.”
Airbrushed and pixelized,
with perfectly de-freckled faces
smile at the camera.
but, not really.
In darkened rooms,
brilliant Directors of Photography
huff and puff
working late into the night
in order to fix skies God did not paint
When necessary, they cut and paste in
perfect unrealistic flowers and trees.
In another gray room,
fair maidens with flowing locks
of L’Oreal Superior Preference Rich Merlot Red 8RG
run screaming in fright
for the seventh time this Tuesday
through vivid green
screens of nothing
in order to try and escape
who thunder in time to the soundtrack and
exhale stunning impotent flames.
And their photo-shopped
with their perfectly stubbled chins
stand aside for insurance purposes
as the director
sends in stunt-doubles
whose faces must stay hidden
as they wield fake swords
whose devastating clangs are created in
a sound studio.
Bravely, these warriors fight
the products of brilliant imaginations
and bleeding blood made of raspberry jelly,
they fall into
as our tears fall with them.
Heroines and heroes
telling the truths of our stories
of our histories, of our time,
by lying to us,
filling our hearts and minds
with valor and laughter and
every now and then.
Such a priceless gift,
these lies our advanced digital
such a perfect reflection
of the fluidity of reality.
“It’s just a movie, just a stupid story,” we say.
But, we know it’s not.