After the Theatre

One from thirty years ago, needing more air.


Vacating your seat, you too
can make language move:
so, elbowing to the exit
is the camaraderie of culture,
your carriage waits in the stack,
concrete pillars are Corinthian columns,
and driving up the greasy ramp,
an exhilarating surge of metaphor.

In the side-streets of reality,
you devastatingly refute Eliot:
it’s all architectured down to size;
the sky’s a renaissance ceiling
you could easily paint on your back,
to one of Mozart’s greatest hits.

Oh, the puddled swish of driving home
in the rain, beside yourself with optimism,
finding all these original thoughts
weaving through the slums,
like beauty in rained-on mascara!

And reaching home, how can you not
admire the castle of your own routine
that is better than no slippers and
no cooking-for-one-smells in the right place
with the photographs at your bedside,
to remind you you won’t be alone
in the bed you’ve made properly
for your fierce contentment?

Clearly, you’ve left Uncle Vanya sobbing
back at the theatre, and quite understandably,
you’ve forgotten why he was.

**************************

Vacating my seat, I too
can make language move:
so, elbowing to the exit
is the camaraderie of culture,
my carriage waits in the stack,
concrete pillars are Corinthian columns,
and driving up the greasy ramp
is an exhilarating surge of metaphor.

In the side-streets of reality,
I devastatingly refute Eliot:
it’s all architectured down to size;
the sky’s a renaissance ceiling
I could easily paint on my back,
to one of Mozart’s greatest hits.

Oh, the puddled swish of driving home
in the rain, beside myself with optimism,
finding all these original thoughts
weaving through the slums,
like beauty in rained-on mascara!

And reaching home, how can I not
admire the castle of my own routine
that is better than no slippers and
no cooking-for-one-smells in the right place
with the photographs at my bedside,
to remind me I won’t be alone
in the bed I’ve made properly
for my fierce contentment?

Sadly, I too have left Uncle Vanya sobbing
back at the theatre, and quite understandably,
I’ve forgotten why he was.

.

 

© nemo 2018
Views: 171
critique and comments welcome.

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2 Comments on "After the Theatre"

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Albermund
Member

So good you’ve posted it twice eh!?
I liked most of that. Interesting use of language as always with you. Don’t understand the exclamation mark. It’s a nice turn off phrase but you are almost trying to tell me how nifty it is. The castle of routine part lost me a wee bit. As you know i’m not the greatest understanderer but brain was a wee bit scrambled by how the smells and slippers part was written. Thought the easy peasy sky painting was very funny. Always worth read. Cheers albert

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