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Bart Edelman 27 At the Movies In the balcony we sit At the historic Rialto, Hands clasped so tightly together They soon fall asleep. We watch the troubled Depardieu And lonely Bouquet lose each other In frame after frame Of the perfect French film. Surely this will never happen to us We whisper in darkness And lean forward to kiss— Our lips gently brushing The hollow cheeks of faces We’ve grown to adore. But up on the wide screen They’re at it again— Cat and mouse— Measuring every move they make, Tearing down the house they built Until it’s nothing but a shell. Where will they live now? What shall become of them? How is all this possible? Didn’t they see it coming? After the credits roll, We stumble out to the street In need of something to eat And a good stiff drink. You pause for a moment Before we reach the car And ask if I enjoyed the movie. We walk slowly, arm in arm, Followed by familiar shadows. ...

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