BIJOU by Vern Rutsala

[joannaingram84]

Huge, perfect creatures move across the screen
to the rhythms of hidden bands.
Small, imperfect creatures slouch in plush seats
and pull crystal tears from their eyes
when the intellectual dog is lost
or when the nearly nice supporting player
is culled from the action by a villain arrow
while saving the blond-souled hero.
They drop their tears and look around hopefully
when they hear the bugle of a rescue party.
But the aisles are empty. Odorless horses
spring onto the screen below waving flags.