I love this woman’s poetry! It recreates the moment, whatever moment that is, so beautifully.
At The Coolidge Corner
Movie Theatre : 1956
The line is long.
The people standing by one, two’s and three’s
are young maniacs.
But anyone with 25-cents will be allowed in.
It’s the Saturday Matinee.
Ushers with flashlights are ignored
as we pile inside,
nearly assault the candy counter
and then carry cups of cola drinks and boxes of candy
down the aisle.
Pushing through the throng,
we fight for seats
in our favorite spot.
The theatre manager is no fool.
Our melee is silenced as the show begins –
it’s a teaser.
Casper the Friendly Ghost and his bouncing ball
come dancing across the movie screen.
The sing-along is raucous and off-key.
We are primed for more, but the lights come on again.
Loud groans fill the space.
But we have to wait
while the projector is loaded once more.
Turning silly with waiting,
at least there are leftover ‘old maid’ corn kernels
from our popcorn boxes
to pelt into balcony.
Next we rip open the Cracker Jack boxes.
We are digging for
decoder rings
the world’s smallest book
or the best –
the ultra rare blue rubber Man From Mars.
Overhead lights flicker and
the heavy red curtain lifts.
Casper is back –
dancing in his ghostly nightgown one more time.
Any empty candy boxes that haven’t already been
ripped into shreds and thrown like confetti
become a chamber orchestra
of paper whistles and horns.
Finally,
before we turn into a completely uncontrollable mob,
the auditorium turns black
except for a pair of red exit signs glowing eerily.
We are about to be pacified with
Mighty Mouse,
The Roadrunner
and a Yosemite Sam cartoon
two black & white Movietone Newsreels
and a double feature.
Our eyes are glued to the screen.
But we are not silent.
For the next three hours
there is no doubt about which side
the audience is on.
Finally overhead lights explode their brilliance.
With emotions fully cranked
and bodies soggy with excitement
we exit into the singular indigo twilight of the northeast.
Walking down the street,
I am still licking my teeth to glean the last vestige
of sweet caramel and peanut flavoring.
And there is something else …
guided by the stars,
the space ship perfectly hidden in the woods beside the highway,
a tiny stranger is now resting deep in my pocket,
safe in my keeping.
It is understood that he must return to his home far far away.
In the meantime,
we are both calm and certain
in the knowledge that he can fulfill his task.
because he — the ultra rare Blue Rubber Man of Mars —
the first of his kind ever to reach our galaxy —
is going to deliver his message of friendship to me:
The Acknowledged Leader of Earth.
Leslie Silton/Poet
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