The old Fox theater, stars
blinking high above the balcony,
Tarzan swinging from a grapevine
for a dime when we were small—
but now, I want to slow the movie down
to a crawl, freeze the frame and rest,
digest the shit-rain of hearsay,
let the cloudy water settle to see
that my rippling reflection is more real
than what the screen is offering.
We are old children watching
an older script unfold, a motley cast
of bad actors vying for the lead.
But there is no holding the planet in place
just to wait for me.