Continuity Error

The scarf she's wearing wasn't there before.
That beauty spot was on the other cheek.
The gun in his hand I saw on the floor.
The background was fertile, and now it's bleak.
When did my face become the way it is?
My grip grow slack? My knees begin to hurt?
Where's the director's cut? Whose edit is
this? All jump-cuts, fragmentary, jagged, curt –
I want the gentle arch of slow transition,
development, enrichment, steady growth,
an all-inclusive pan, not inanition
shattered by frenzy, fury slashed to sloth.
But Continuity will rectify
all errors with a dissolve when I die.

Mike Rogers

If you have any thoughts about this poem,  Mike Rogers would be pleased to hear them