The faces changed- Theater for the ages
Disease tattooed itself to my skull, twisting
in and out of eye sockets in order to blind
us; with the iris's pre occupied, the map of
direction is merely a piece of paper of little
use; flowers in the chest cavities, being
picked out for a showcase of hearty lovers
the curtains draped past the feet, creating
a red carpet to walk upon, yet, when 1000's
walk on the glory of few, the carpets become
dirty, whilst washed up actors clean the mess
of their dreams, screams can be heard from
corridors where leading ladies birthed babies.
The wood binding the floor to a relationship
with footsteps of the past still carries the
burdens of children's laughter, yet now...
the child like voices have turned deeper, and
no more shall echo across an audience
willing to forget about life for a few hours
Pop corn still branded with teeth marks,
as if dogs had ravished the color from
life; and as coke stains vanish from throats
in which sang the praises of dreamers,
once smooth faces crack for times
entertainment; lip stick disappears from
mouths, and perfume forgets to drench
the air in a fresh aroma; wrinkled skin
continues to dance, yet to a slower tempo
pitched perfectly for a frequent memory
to beat in minds that live solely in years
gone by; from a cast who brought such
old time classics as "stage fright" and
of course, "smiles to faces" now shall
birth a new opening number, the show
is called "parking lot" the audience will
be seated in metal machines, and the box
office man has been fired to be replaced
by an automated ticket dispenser.
-Poeta