The Bedside Book of Fight Scene Choreography

Glen Armstrong

Going out to see
a movie where everybody fights

           is different from seeing just any
           old movie.
                     Or any old fight.

We sit down with popcorn,
and the world goes crazy.

The beautiful hell
that the actors unpack
like a picnic lunch

is not the hell our sons
and daughters scrawl

over the city’s
crumbling brick

before tearing into each
other’s faces.

As different as skin
and blood,

as different as glass
and ice,

shoes and dancing,
sorrow and wine.

A winter storm approaches
as the Cineplex empties.

There is very little left to say.
I’m not sure what I’m feeling.

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