Story Time for poetchilde
In a fit of occasioned madness—
As poetchilde chuffs at his loneliness—
(Shakespeare says “chuff,” whatever he means)
Flying to the Moon for a Lorna Doone
poetchilde flees his dreary den!
Mr. Doofus McGoofus—who?—purchases
With his very own Filthy McLucre
A ticket—admittance—substantiation!—
To the old-fashioned Picture Show.
Ticket in hand, I enter the cave so dark and creepy,
Wherein I espy—my eyes like spies—
A cluster of the faithful bobbling in their seats
As they await the journey of the man
Who would receive the Ten Commandments.
They bobble—
They gasp—they stand—
They nearly faint—
As Mr. Heston raises his staff.
I see their faith soar
As the Red Sea parts
By the mighty hand of God.
I squirm—I scrunch—
I drool—
The faith of these chosen few—
Believing now what they always believed—
Has soared beyond taboo.
The grandeur romantic serves to perfect
Their faith by the bootstrap effect.
I think—I sound yelp—
To my sorry, sponge-bob self.
My faith cannot get it—
When then—a moment to mark—
The picture flickers for sure—
And the faith of the chosen few
Seems to collapse—
As mine—
With remembrance of Plato’s cave,
A-flicker with images
On the wall
Created by masters
Behind.
I snort—I retort—
Must I empty my port?—
Nay! For the sake
Of the gods.
My eyes cast about—
In the depths of my doubt—
To see the grizzled old man
Seated beside
The beautiful lady lief—
Meaning blessed—
Meaning lucky
To have a grizzled old man—
Meaning poetical—
Meaning rubricated
With enchantment and such.
Their faith neither rises nor falls
As they remain undisturbed by the flicker—
The grizzled old man and the lady lief.
The old man’s eyes recast to the air
As he ponders a thought from the wall.
The lady’s kind hand adjoins his own
With a thought she wants to share.
Their faith neither rises nor falls
Undisturbed by the flicker—their faith—faith!—faith!!—
_______