HOSTILES

In this dark theater,
surrounded by strangers,
we watched Hostiles
together.
A suicide, a grieving mother, a broken solider;
they reminded me I was unable to utter
the animal inside when it would’ve mattered.
In a home of strangers, I made no sound.
In this dark theater, I crunch my popcorn
loud.

The old woman beside me
sobbed,
clenching her eyes closed
as they came upon the body
leaned against the log.
The animal inside wanted to join her;
two strangers met by tragedy
and years spent in idle.
But I held my focus to admire
the makeup
that made the hole in his head
stare back
into us;
into our deep churning darkness.

written on 02/14/2018 by: Matt Kane