I Stood In The Dark Waiting For The Number Fifty-Six Poem by Allan Thorne

I stood in the dark
On a warm spring night
Waiting for the bus

Watching the show
Across the street
In a store front church
Lights blazing
Through unshaded windows.

Like watching a video on fast forward in a dark room
Or a fish tank laced with amphetamines.

A small room packed.
Seething, writhing people
Singing, dancing, playing guitars,
Beating tambourines,
Making, “a joyful noise.”

Heaven on earth?
It must be hot as hell in there.

The men in white shirts,
The women in print dresses,
The children running in and out
Between their legs.

I stood in the dark
Waiting for the bus
Charmed and wondering and horrified
At this frantic innocence.
This desperate sincerity
This primitive faith.

I was to smart for all that
I already knew too much
To give my self
To passion and belief.

I stood in the dark waiting.