All threaded together like socks darned
with string, the stories keep pulling
on my hardened heart strings
And each grows in import and pathos
and more; till the horse runs away
and the rest becomes lore.
Stop making me care with your camera
and score–stop the characterization
stop the color and gore
Just ride out from nowhere and find
your lost Joey–before you lose
sight of the reason for story:
and forget that the person
you save is ___________ ?