Tuesday, August 26, 2008

 

Poetry Fusillade, pt 17: Theater Ten


I walked out of theater nine
During the credits
But after that part, the end-
A beautiful woman, great hair,
Dives from an explosion, safe.

I walked out jangly
And met those leaving
Small theater ten-
Brooding, dark, crying softly.

I watched, then waited
Hid among the crowd
Snuck in the next show,

And there on the stage:
An old man
Telling stories
About a war.

Comments:
Those red, white and blue cloths in the background make me think of the French flag (oddly enough, not the American. We are tied to them intimately, you know, in our rebellions . . .) Maybe it's the text of the poem that conjures an older age--WWII as you said before, and an older country.

Or maybe it's because I'm working for the French now. I really am.
 
Or maybe because that actually is a French flag? (and it is).
 
Hey osler do you remember in GP at the old Woods Theatre which I am sure no longer exists now But for a while they had a lot of big theaters and then this one reallly tiny one? And in it they would show sort of independent movies like that one b & W movie with Peter Falk the French version of City of Angels? or like weird movies like that/ I remember it was sooo small it had like no more than like 15 seats... and if you had been in there before the most fun thing to do was to watch the door and wait for people who had never been in it before to come in. They would walk in and would all have the same reaction: "WHOA! This IS small! hahah!" and everyone would laugh.

I liked that little tiny room. I saw a LOT of great movies in that room.

I also used to LOVE LOVE LOVE going down to the DIA movies on Fri Sat and Sun nights. I saw SOOOO many cool and really weird movies there.

I wonder if they still have movies at the DIA.
 
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