Saturday, April 05, 2008

Sad Aesthetic

by Kevin McFadden

A Country is the things it wants to see.--Robert Pinsky

Once upon a time in America,

those magnificent men in their flying machines

abandon ship

without a trace.

The American president

(dead man walking)


the great lie

at close range.

The story of us,

the straight story,

the greatest show on earth

written on the wind,

gone with the wind.

True lies,

sex, lies and videotape,

the last picture show,

last action hero

going my way.

Nowhere to run,

ordinary people


Beautiful girls

die hard.

The usual suspects,

gods and monsters,


the best years of our lives,

the agony and the ecstasy.

I'm dangerous tonight.

I'm dancing as fast as I can.

I'm the girl he wants to kill.

I'm gonna get you, sucka,

I'm no angel—


analyze this.

The naked city

dances with wolves

another 48 hours,

the wild bunch

up against the wall

now & then,

the sound of music

north by northwest

on the waterfront

after midnight.

Back to the future:

it happened tomorrow,

the birth of a nation.

The bad and the beautiful


modern times,

9 to 5

trading places

from here to eternity.

Days of wine and roses,

days of thunder.

When we were kings

(the king and I

say anything)

how green was my valley,

high noon,

the color of money.

Legends of the fall,

the big fall,

body and soul,

all about Eve

raising Cain

(another you)

east of Eden.

The hand that rocks the cradle

breaking away

out of Africa,

coming to America

dazed and confused.

Some like it hot,

all-American murder,

the sting

in the heat of the night,

how the West was won—


for Heaven's sake,

for the love of the game.

It's a wonderful life,

as good as it gets.

Do the right thing,

alien nation—

you can't take it with you.


the sixth sense,

basic instinct,

strike up the band—

the empire strikes back.

Come and get it:

the shining

sling blade


Star wars,


Apocalypse now.

Check out the rest of the new Redivider.

Kevin McFadden's new book, Hardscrabble.

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