Wrist

I fell asleep in the cinema

I was only there

to see the westlers 

hot dog advert

 

“Westlers Hot Dogs In The Foyer Now!”

 

would ring around

every single viewing

auditorium throughout

the 80’s and 90’s,

half exploded husks 

would be thrust into the air

at the exact moment

the ‘playtime popcorn’

advert appeared 

on the screen,

everyone would

scream in a fit

of junk food unity,

the smell of sticky toffee

emanated from

the audience

like heat shimmering

off a tarmac road

in 100-degree heat,

it was hazy,

local louts 

in the backrow 

would throw 

everything

at their disposal 

towards the sea of heads 

in front of them,

don’t ask me why?

it was a sustained attack

a human coconut shy,

there was one simple rule,

“never look back”

eye contact spelt trouble,

today was a Tuesday

I caught the early matinee,

the film was French pornography

super 8 quality, 

black and white 

to inject a touch of “Noir” 

apparently, there was 

a hidden message

placed ‘subliminally’

I didn’t grasp it!

the auditorium 

was deserted

other than

a bail bondsman

sitting central 

in the first row,

how did I know

he was a bondsman?

he looked like the dude

out the film ‘Jackie Brown’,

occasionally 

he’d look around,

I think he was

having a wank,

one’s company

two’s a crowd,

the surround sound

was painfully loud,

my Coca-Cola flat, 

three hours in

and I needed 

a breather,

I was 

displaying

all the symptoms 

of sugar rush 

fever,

the film was clearly

some sort of B-Movie shit

the fondling felt tame,

the dialog overexaggerated,

the sex scenes were lame,

spontaneity 

appeared

premeditated,

it just goes to show, 

cinemas are so overrated,

now it just attracts 

the dregs,

I got major cramp in my legs

the bail bondsman 

got cramp

in his ‘Wrist’

he was clearly 

loving it!