by Kevin McFadden
A Country is the things it wants to see.--Robert Pinsky
Once upon a time in
those magnificent men in their flying machines
abandon ship
without a trace.
The American president
(dead man walking)
jaws
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
speed.
Beautiful girls
die hard.
The usual suspects,
gods and monsters,
witness
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—
psycho
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
affliction,
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
The hand that rocks the cradle
breaking away
out of
coming to
dazed and confused.
Some like it hot,
all-American murder,
the sting
in the heat of the night,
how the West was won—
blow
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.
Fear,
the sixth sense,
basic instinct,
strike up the band—
the empire strikes back.
Come and get it:
the shining
sling blade
armageddon.
Star wars,
sayonara.
Apocalypse now.
Kevin McFadden's new book, Hardscrabble.
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