Rough Cut

So we begin with sunny skies, a cartoon-like rainbow,
scattered puffy clouds, the cotton ball kind,
with all the flora and fauna dancing Disney-esque,
smiling daisies, singing squirrels and bouncing baby deer.

Then from off-screen, this guy and the girl run toward each other
through a field of lush green swaying grass, gauze on the lens,
and it’s in super snail-ish gooey slow-mo,
just like those old TV ads for toilet paper.

They eventually catch each other in a strangling embrace,
we go close-up here, so you can see their perfect skin glisten,
each smiling cheek-muscle crampingly into the face of the other,
a scene so sickeningly sweet everyone’s blood sugar level explodes.

Now we cut to a dreary winter day, gray and menacing,
the sun going down like a sinking ship where all the passengers will drown,
a cutting wind howling down a littered street, uber-urban, old brick and rusting steel,
lots of grotesque buildings claustrophobically leaning over to cracked sidewalks.

The guy and girl, shivering and raggedly under-clothed,
an outward indication of their inner emotional poverty,
teeth-chatter their way toward each other,
hollow eyes downcast, probably looking desperately for loose change.

As this same pair we saw in part one near each other,
they both look up simultaneously, almost O. Henry stuff,
see each other’s drawn, gray, weary, beaten faces,
but there’s no recognition, and they pass one another, plod on.

And I’m wondering if it’s too much, do you think,
to set off a nuclear mushroom cloud, black and white,
all of it under a moon turning blood-red as we pan to it,
then fade to black?

No bloopers with or after the credits.
We don’t want the audience to think this is a comedy.
I’m hearing a soundtrack with no lyrics, and nothing hummable or whistle-able.
I like Love’s Progress for a working title, don’t you think?

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