Sunday, September 12, 2021

August, Kings County 1955


The doors of the Kinema theatre were open.

Cold air was sucked outside onto the sidewalk.

The August heat acting as a vacuum.


The only respite for apartment residents

of rooms where open windows and

fans gave no respite.


Pitkin Avenue, Brooklyn, working-class.

white-ethnic, and (as the New York Times

described it) “provincial.”


The bunting hanging from the marquee

proclaimed, “Air Conditioned Inside.”

The sign was superfluous.


The manager of the theatre was a young

blond guy:

GAY as could be, a bespoke Dandy.

                       The toughs in the neighborhood

labeled him a “Flaming Faggot”

but he was well liked as an anomaly.


                        A blooming flower in a garden

in need of weeding.


A main feature, a second “B” movie, cartoons,

coming attractions, and a newsreel.

A pleasant way to spend 2-plus hours dreaming

of adventure and/or romance.


The cool-darkened theatre gave us a break from

the egg-frying sidewalks.


Like Summer, this escape was temporary.

reality was past the open doors as we were

sucked onto the sidewalk with the cold air.