Prodigal Electrons Return to Shine
is the name of the movie
she wants to see,
the first the daughter
of a famous director
whose plots to her
always seemed designed
for others
with more sophisticated
problems made,
about a man who wears
gray excellent suits
and thinks too much
about science.
Always he is both
actually and otherwise
looking over his shoulder
and a sudden death
brings him a love
he might refuse.
None of her friends
wanted to go with her
at midnight to the decayed
cinema some younger
enterprising kids
had bought and made
newly old
so onto the famous
street of the east side
of the city its white
marquee shines
again and black letters
spell the names
of the great stars
this time of our age.
As she passes through
the doors she sees
the original carefully
repainted bright minarets
and above her dangle
those blue and yellow
chandeliers her mother
told her she walked
most weekends under
when she was a child,
then up the grand
staircase to sit
in the huge balcony
and watch the handsome
and the beautiful
interchangeably through
the silver plots
that seemed even after
exposure to blinking
sunlight for a little
while so possible.
Tonight she walks
up to the particular
porcelain lion she had
when she was a girl
for a now forgotten
reason chosen, puts
her hand on his nose
and says tenderly
in her mind I’m sorry
I can’t remember
the name I gave you.
He continues
looking away.
If he could speak
he would say that’s ok
after the doors
are locked a pearlescent
gloom color no living
person can know
like a dream an object
has fills the hall
and the name of that
color is my name.
