• poems,  poetry

    to the movies.

    crunched white ice under worn bowling shoes frayed laces and empty circles stone dead hands inside borrowed fleece and cotton holding rolled coin knit cap on top gray and black over long thick hair he walks alone to the near empty theatre and asks for just one paying in rolled quarters and looking past the popcorn he forgets why it took him here the cold weather and the coins in another place the dark helps him calm his world for just 2 hours j-