Cult
written by: James Gabriel
@James_Gabriel1
sneakers tread on
soft padded carpet
the smell of glass
cleaner fills the air
theatre twelve
at the end of the
hall
concession crowds
down to an anemic
roar
posters for movies
released two weeks earlier
line the walls
walk into the theatre
lights
dim
floors dirty and
overlooked
you sit in the back
on the left hand side
nine rows ahead of you
the back of a head
hair gray and thinning
bobs up
and down
the chair squeaks
the head stops bobbing and
turns to looks at you
steel gray eyes
white whiskers
the theater darkens
showtime
Born and raised in Los Angeles, California. James Gabriel is new to poetry. Inspired by the small moments in life that add up to who we are as people.
Latest posts by James Gabriel (see all)
- A Bountiful Harvest - October 11, 2019
- Car Fire - September 8, 2019
- Dessert Wine, by Mistake - May 17, 2019
