The Reel King

All hail the Reel King.
All hail the Reel King
All hail the Reel King.

The Reel turns,
spinning
measuredly.
Throwing images on
the Cosmic Wall,
like a Tired World.

Shape shifting forms
colours burst,
retract, dissolve,
disappear on white.

At once moving,
yet lifeless,
Staring up at the
Sea of
Popcorn People
assembled to worship
before its
Screenplay Decadence.

Meanwhile We
seat ourselves into those
Grand Cushions
to see
Broken Glass versions
of
Our
Selves.

Sound stabs from
Corners. Comes the
advent of Story.
New Beginnings,
Middle and
End.
In one, free flowing,
Spectacular Rush.

Till the Curtain closes
and we step out into
the blinding, stabbing
White Light
of
Reality.

All hail the Reel King.
All hail the Reel King
All hail the Reel King.