AT THE MOVIES

       


    Alone, with friends,
        a date, amid a crowd
            I shuffle up an incline,
                down a stairs.
        Why does the music
            always seem so loud?
    I navigate the knees
        and coats and chairs.
    And as the house-lights dim
        my gut grows tight.
            The endless ads bear down.
                The trailers race.
    I'm stretched
        with sinking feet,
                 a skull too light.
            I sense the pained look
                twisting on my face.
    I can't remember
        what I've come to see.
            My head's confused,
                cold hands,
                    dread fills my heart.
    Did I forget
        what fiction does to me?
            As from atop
                a roller-coaster cart
            the screen I scan
                "Oh s**t."
                    I'm caught in this.
    Once more I speed
        into the new abyss.

Reviews

[TLK]

If only my gut could grow tight.