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An Admissions Ticket
Don Kingfisher Campbell is founder of POETRYpeople youth writing
workshops, publisher of the San Gabriel Valley Poetry Quarterly, leader of
the Emerging Urban Poets writing and Wednesday Afternoon Critique workshops,
and host of Monday Night Poetry in Pasadena. His first book of poetry, "Enter," was published by iUniverse Press.
By Don Kingfisher Campbell
I walk out those theater doors
and feel I am in a CGI world
(just like Naomi Watts with
King Kong, only I'm the pixel)
I get in my car and race through
streets, houses whizzing by
(It's a rock strewn ocean
that could sink my vehicle)
Park next to a sidewalk and
swing open my door to march
(A narrow stone passageway
featuring rows of skulls)
Furiously into my apartment
where even the furniture is
(Hairy native creatures stalk me,
I stare down until they shriek)
An effect placed there to complete
the illusion that I have a life
(Imagine I grasp a rifle to
protect me from their spears)
Beyond what I see on the screen
provided for me at the cost of
(Crawling crevices to find clearings
dinosaur and insect inhabited)
My individuality which must be an
elaborate artifice I've constructed
(A wooden bridge might save me
from flying bats of enormous size)
Floating remnants of my mind left
over from stages passed long ago
(The beast grabs me, hurls me away,
then leaps on in bounding thuds)
Or, maybe, this is my movie, and
I, unfortunately, merely a player,
(Sunrise, and I become befriended
at last, here comes the rescuer)
Gray matter, I breathe in every line,
knowing exactly when and why
(I finally capture the giant gorilla,
throwing a bottle of chloroform)
This poet struggles, enjoys creation,
senses love...I pause to ponder
(I feature him at the Catalina,
unchained, surrounded by open readers)
How much longer this Empire
State ego will hold your interest
(Critics circle around, they fire,
I fall, 'twas poetry killed the poem)
Published September 2006
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