poetry began at the Ritz Theater

a scratched nineteen thirties movie
black and white, new way back once upon a time,
quality withered, it used to be so sharp
but who knows where that film was stored for years

hear clicking, the projector runs the sprockets
house lights dim, Mr. Mattee has a flashlight,
the smell of popcorn drifts and fills the air,
previews, the cartoon then the grand theme starts

filmed at dusk, there are fires
with nine hundred extras changing costumes
to be the villagers, the Vandals and than an invading army
fought inside, over and along ancient castle walls

of course there were towers, a moat and stirring music
and that’s the true story how i began writing poetry
when i was a kid, before that i thought about it
but wasn’t serious