There is an art to enjoy bad movies,
A way to abstract perfect stills
From tawdry plots and dead dialogue:
Raindrops beating on the heroine’s face –
You can bracket this, cut away the edges
Of the hackneyed scene; you can travel far
On the montage of a lonesome highway
To the shot of the runaway lovers.
The art is to detach from plot and words,
The absurd clichés muted by the will,
Life itself removed, a clumsy interlude.
It’s all yours now, stirred in the alembic
Of half-dreams, a movie within a movie,
This fine art of late night solitude.
About Michael Grosso
Michael Grosso is a writer and painter who has taught philosophy at Marymount College and New Jersey City University, and presently does research on consciousness and other mysteries of the mind at the University of Virginia. His last books include Irreducible Mind (co-written) and Experiencing the Next World Now. He is now finishing a study of levitation and planning to publish his first book of poetry, Voices and Shadows.
