Reflections on the film Doubt

I

There's a reason
the light bulb went out
twice, Sister.

II

The audience
picked up on her
wrinkled
lies from the very
beginning.

It was the wrinkles
in her face; it was
the problems
in her mechanics.

III

Great howling wind,
quick coatings of snow,
and sleepless nights
while shadows hugged
the lightning's flash:

who knows where
all that metaphor
was hiding out at?

A fourth wall torn down
to a second ground, grown
damp with so much use.

IV

The benches are meant
to be warmed, yet still--
what flagellation!

What cold asses
to be with all that
bickering going on!

The nuns clutch
rosaries instead
of their cheeks.

Their black-clothed
bottoms sit idle,
covering shivers.

Doesn't anyone believe
in the orange fade of healing,
or the interior's warmth, anymore?

V

During the one on one bits
both players showed a stern glance
though really every shot was
just a grayed, mixed bag,
a queer congestion of
artful dodging and irrational
sequencing--though to see
you both go from tearing
to stern defiance in seconds
was bright, like light through
painted glass panels, or
spreads of feathers unleashed
from the since-gutted pillows.

VI

The rooftop is a great way
to spread the Power of the Word,
but how do you choose the rooftop
without appearing proud or
insecure?

VII

As the third I guess I'd say
you made me feel the best,
which is what your character,
as a representation of innocence
torn asunder to urban grit,
was supposed to do.

Don't get me wrong--that
warm and fuzzy feeling
remains a great memory,
and I even felt charmed
by your swift control
in the classroom, but
I'll be honest--I liked you more
when you had no control,
when your energy was all
smiles and warm cheering,
when you had everyone
else take care of the
depressing things in life.

And after that wash of
scandalous, believable events,
it was nice seeing you back
from your sick brother,
giving your queen a beautiful
dollar-store pieta.