The theater's empty. I'm still on the screen...raging, like Donald Duck. Smell the popcorn, young couples groping in the last row. Guys, it's awful realizing, you're an intermission...when you think, you're so much more. They're gone now. They've seen it all before. Wait! There's an usher; with a flashlight...finding something; something, quite disgusting on the floor. It's Earth, alright. At least, that seems for sure...though seeming certainty, is never certainty for sure.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Diane Arbus, empty movie theater
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