Poems

Movie Theatre

As the previews start to roll  I cannot help but think how odd it is that movie theaters are public spaces.

The atmosphere is too personal with its patterned carpets and reclining chairs.

The dimming lights are too intimate.

The cinematic showroom must exist inside a mansion somewhere in the hills of suburbia.

Maybe we were all invited to a dinner party where we got drunk and mingled, now treated to the cinema by a wealthy host.

Only a thought borne of loneliness. I will not talk to anybody here.

They are all strangers that have like me paid their ten dollars to sit in the darkness for a few hours, in absolute silence, and be swayed by the miracle of surround sound.

This is why we are here. To eat popcorn and hit pause on our lives.

And when the movie ends it is hard for us to reenter reality.

Leaving the theater, I am no longer myself, but a larger than life character stepping out of a fictional universe.

If it was a crime drama I’d be the evil genius plotting my next move as I use the restroom by the exit.

But it was an action adventure flick, so I am the unsuspecting hero about to rise up and save the world as I walk to my car, fumbling for the keys, trying hard not to cry.

Sunset

The late afternoon sinks into our skin

as cities shimmer in the distance

and millions of people swim under skyscrapers toward the surface of cinematic America

and ships of color sail across the horizon carrying sunset

and souls are crayoned over with the artistic touch of a divine toddler

and I silently invent secrets and whisper them to the sky.

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