John W. McEwers
John W. McEwers Poems
First Love Story At The Movies
I can still picture the old theater's gold marquee
thrusting over the sidewalk, a brittle matinee ticket,
and in a dim enough room-smell the seats,
the satiny wash of crushed chocolate and sweat,
candied lip gloss and floor wax.
If virginity was a thing to be lost
I'd still keep it, meticulous habits complying
to my packrat's retention of useless little things.
I recall the feel of swampy popcorn,
the echo of Will Hunting's tears,
and my pride, my pride
in purposefully misplacing something.
The Sunshine In Winter
There is none.
I live in the noth
-ingness of the holes
Of my teeth.
They are floating, my teeth
And when will the sun shine rise again?
I fear never.
Never, I fear.