There is no cause but this—a speeding train,
a damsel on the track. But it’s not clear
why she was hog-tied as the train grew near,
or why the hero dashed across the plain,
all sweat and streaming hair. And did the villain
want her money, did he want revenge,
or what the hell’s the story? Who will fill in
the damned ellipses? Therein lies the tinge
of bias, pious declarations, stock
melodrama, studies in archetype,
varying degrees of smut and hype,
specifics added in for added shock,
piano players plunking through a score
of tunes we know by heart, our certitude
the girl’s, the hero’s. He’ll be back for more
next week, his hair in place, his methods crude.

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