like thieves in the night

         the monolith beckoned, as if it were a full moon
   glowing under solitary streetlamp, in green light
surrounded by looming tanks of fuel oil; a hole punctured through creamy darkness
   high on an iron-grate alter, to be approached head-on via metal stairs

         while watching late night movies “Soylent green is made of people.”
   when a boy’s mind is full of girls, football, and comic books
   before adult onset of self induced stress and worry
we hatched our plan — my friend and i; during a sleepover at his house
we determined to worship the monolith, by partaking of the sacrament

         enveloped in the warmth of summer’s night; long after midnight
    we venture out across the field, with bottle opener and plastic cups in hand
sneakers crunch; dried grass nicking brown legs exposed by cut-off jeans
  radiant light destination, a beacon at the end of our tunnel vision
low clang of metal sound under feet, as we trudge along the walkway

        moving into eerie glow of the streetlamp, we are exposed in the spotlight
   arriving in the presence of our god — the nectar is now within reach
there they are! like jewels aligned in a column of cold — behind the tall, narrow glass door
   bottles resting on their sides, requiring coinage to release them from the machine

        held steady in place by metallic grip, we emptied their contents
  while one held open the door, the other went to work popping off tops
  cola and grape nehi gushing forth as if from a garden hose
  and we greedily held out our cups, to receive the liquid candy

        gulping down with sticky hands and t-shirts; in gluttony
   time before video surveillance cameras existed on every corner
never to appear on youtube; drinking deep and topping-off our cups
   we hastily beat a retreat back under the cover of darkness

sleep would not come that night; our restless bodies lying on couches
   staring into the future, long after the three tv networks had signed off the air
        imagining the surprised looks on the faces of the workers, the next day
   as they dropped coins into a machine full of dead soldiers

Digiprove sealCopyright secured by Digiprove © 2013 V Perrotti
Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinteresttumblrFacebooktwittergoogle_pluspinteresttumblr   twitterrssinstagramtwitterrssinstagram

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *