Ballcaps flipped back,

they sit crosslegged

on the shag,

crunching tacos

off paper plates.


The flow of Garbo’s ethereal scarves

across the black and white screen

transfixes them,

lures them into a baroque suite.



the Reverend Plague

clamps hairy knuckles and twisted chin

against the picture window,

locked out

until the final credits.



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