Bootleg Poem by Kewayne Wadley

And to where should they go,
The Small receipts of memories.
Torn off, tossed into a big wooden box
Soon
To be cast aside.
The smell of popcorn that lingered in the air
Next to the drink machine whom cartridge needed to be changed.
Beckoning in the air.
Forlorn.
Soon to be disgarded,
Cast a side.
Where should they go,
The places we've stood on drink spilled carpet.
The laughs shared over the loud crunch of popcorn.
A seduction of color behind a combustion of light bulb projections.
Tightly seated in a row of cheaply brought seats.
Glamorous,
The sight of you under the beam of light struck against the big screen.
The secrets our lips shared as the credits began to roll.
Where should they go,
The previews of movies not seen.
The wads of balled up straw paper thrown at each other,
All in the name of fun as PG-13 quickly turned into Rated-R.
As the screens of cell phones lit the dark like fireflies.
Bright flickering lights following the sounds of chatter coming from the loud speaker.
Where should they go,
The Small receipts of memories.
Torn off, tossed into a big wooden box
Soon to be cast a side
In a bootleg movie