During an intermission we all headed out to the popcorn stand,
unaware that the monsters we had been watching on the screen
had walked out of the theater and now roamed the streets.
They looked just like us, because they were made in our image,
the image we inhabit to forge and maintain some idea of ourselves,
without which we would become formless once more, just a thought
in the mind of a screenwriter composing the next movie script.
We love our monsters, and so we offer them special positions,
perhaps the presidency or the priesthood, or maybe they will be
generals fighting the endless war against the other monsters,
the ones we created out of our own hopes and fears, the ones
we love to talk about, because to just be silent is so disturbing.
When we returned to our seats in the theater after the break,
we waited patiently for the movie to resume, but it already had.
It featured all the thoughts we were having now, as well as
those to come — the thoughts about the monsters we had made
who now sat next to us with their popcorn and soda, slightly
slumping down in their seats, looking straight ahead.
Picture by Simone Vela