…memories
are realities ghosts…
BJN
Where
Have You Gone To Godzilla?
by
BJ Neblett
©
2008
Where
have you gone to Godzilla?
Are
there no more toy
tanks
to stomp,
children
to scare?
On
a burning Saturday afternoon
indecisive
leather clad doors swing freely
their
oval panes frosted with the fingerprints of time,
just
two bits a head to enter the tunnel of dreams.
Yellow
brick carpet
worn
smooth as grand mom’s mohair sofa
lumbers
into the inky darkness,
bruised
seat cushions
and
jealous velvet ropes
smack
of popcorn and promises and disinfectant.
A
three story shroud yawns gracefully
and
the billboard sized screen materializes,
celluloid
church commences.
Where
have you gone to Godzilla?
Have
you retreated to your
octagon
metal crypt for good?
White
T shirt and blue jeans
the
uniform of the faithful,
red
Converse hi-tops
and
pink Keds
become
one with the floor
awash
in a sea of Pepsi cement.
Coiled
springs bloom like May flowers
out
of the tired recliners
where
me and freckled Amy Johnson
and
two penny Mary Jane
form
a sweet ménage a trios
in
the center of the sixth row.
War,
protests and hatred
dance
on the silver wall
a
muddled juxtaposition
of
newsreel
and
preview of things to come.
Speechless
Tom and Jerry
do
what comes natural
to
a cartoon cat and mouse
with
frying pan and anvil.
Amy’s
elbow has found my ribs
and
my hand retreats to her shoulder.
Hazel
star filtered eyes
and
70 millimeter reverie
take
wing with discerning dialogue
and
butterfly kisses.
Oh,
where have you gone to Godzilla?
Rampaging
terror in black and white
psychedelic
clown in Technicolor,
there
is no joy in Erewhon tonight
the
king of monsters
has
gone dark,
the
last reel flapping your dirge.
Wide
screen CinemaScope illusions
have
flickered into letter-boxed reality.
Youngstown,
OH
January,
2008
