Feature Presentation

“Be yourself,” they say over bowls of popcorn
And clean cups of diet coke,
Strands of their manufactured heat drifting in over the red seats.

But out here, it’s cold and quite,
With the city shining and pulsing over the bay,

And I’m thinking that if this was a movie,
You would lean down and kiss me, your glasses scraping my forehead,
And the audience would clasp hands and cheer.

Instead, your silence deems my self unacceptable
And we walk off, dragging the dog behind us,
Back to your old car
That no actor would be caught dead driving.

So you fumble with the radio and I bite my nails
As the city falls away behind the road
And our audience groans and shifts in their seats,
Waiting for the credits to roll.