She
loved movies, and
he
didn’t, so she took
the
boy with her to see
romances,
comedies, dramas,
all
those movies of the ‘50s and
early
‘60s echoing the movies
of
before, the ones that turned
her
star struck, with Scarlett
and
Dorothy, Rhett and
Mr.
Chips, wrapping herself
in
celluloid fantasy and
by
extension wrapping
the
boy as well.
This
is another in the series of poems about growing up in the South, suggested by
my friend Nancy Rosback at A Little Somethin’. The Last Voyage (1960) was one of the movies my mother took me to
see. the movie was so tense that I cried; my mother felt so bad that she took me across Canal Street in New Orleans to another theater to see Some Like It Hot with Marilyn Monroe, Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon.
This poem is submitted for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets. The links will be live at 2 p.n. Central time today.
You do need to write about seeing "Some Like It Hot" at that tender age. Such a great story.
ReplyDeleteha...so no donald duck and muppet show but the real stuff...smiles
ReplyDeleteinteresting...how do you think this made things different for you...seeing these at a young age?
ReplyDeleteStill magic, I'm sure - just a different kind.
ReplyDeletei like "some like it hot" and lots of other older movies. many of them don't jar me out of my seat, or keep me awake all night. they instead tell a story and entertain with a sense of wit and heart.
ReplyDelete