The film Jim was watching was in
Black and White. He’s seen it before
And I
Was a few rows behind.
He loved the theater because it smelled like home
  Before moving away from Minnesota.

His face was medieval, sinister and proud
He suffered quiet desperation
  And hid it between his brow
The movie, epileptic, machine-like and loud
It was a retelling of the Great War
   And it drew in a crowd

  Jim’s favorite part was the silent scenes
The yang to the firefight and circus
  He’d joke and smoke and nudge his fellow solider
Mind without body in a movie without purpose

The film Jim was watching was in
Black and White. He’s seen it before
And I
Was a few rows behind.
He slashed his wrists in his seat that night
Because his body couldn’t live without his mind