movie

SCENE:

the credits fly up

with a last mcdonald’s meal,

a suitcase that you carried for me;

two slim boarding passes with

two different endings.

but when the music stops

& the screen goes dark,

when they come to sweep

the memory-debris off

the cinema seats, i wonder –

do you still watch those old movies?

do you still stay awake, fighting off sleep?

do you still take blurry pictures

of crystal scenes?

the cinema lies empty

but i never got the nerve

to leave. the past recurs

like the men play jazz

everyday in our city – quick & warm &

lonely. the rhythm always

-----------------off-beat

as if missing half the dialogue

in a script lost to the seas.

& i’m left wandering,

what happened to the plot –

do you wonder

what you came to mean to me?

do you remember

the city lights awash

with rain & mist, so ephemeral

i couldn’t even see?

do i ever emerge

on your faraway screen?

the credits fly up

images burnt, buried –

an obituary to the past

inside rolling reels

left to moths of distance, dust

& the mind’s rudest critics.

the cinema is locked

but i’m still inside, sifting

through the pictures, finally

able to see

our ghosts side-by-side on the screen.

the past plays

----------------off-beat

slow & cool & lovely.

think i’ll keep this seat

warm forever, your memory

of me unable, stubborn

confetti, to be

swept away to reality

where movies always end & life

spills soda on my dreams.

[INTERVAL]

*Inspired by the song Movie by Tom Misch

Image from New York Times Magazine's Love City issue, "24 Kisses Around New York in 24 Hours", June 2018