Monday, January 13, 2014

4913. MOVIERAMA

MOVIERAMA
The newsreel dips like a carnival clown
telling fortunes to the blind and the lame.
The three dour ladies are sipping their sodas and
clapping back to shadows on the wall. The footage
is of tanks, and funny, dark men with enormous
rifles. I want to say 'Ghurkas', but just am not sure.
Why do men kill, for the opportunity of themselves,
or others? Never known, never wanted - I think most
still want a nipple, something perfect and solid to grasp.
-
I've a notion this newsreel ends soon. Those ladies
are still in their seats, and I realize (egads!) they're
not ladies at all and I'm older than them by far. What
a shitty life this has been. I've won nothing, and lost
Time. 'Odd and ends, odds and ends; lost time
is not found again.'
-
Here's what I can do - I'll sit back and linger
until the stars meet the sky, until the moon
hits the ceiling, until I've convinced myself it's
the moment to die.

No comments: