Rocky Horror at Midnight
We went to see
Rocky Horror at midnight,
three women past our primes
convinced we were still
Damned Kids wouldn’t keep it down,
running amok in the aisles, acting out
scenes they didn’t know all the lines to.
A half-assed job of revelry—
We did it right in my day.
Boys in lingerie borrowed from grandma
forced us to do the “Time Warp.”
We glared, we hissed,
No means no!
as their insistent hands pried us
from our cozy seats,
one by one.
Was this ever fun?
A cowboy caricature
with pencilled-in sideburns
and a star around his eye
bummed a cigarette,
slobbered on our hands,
and called us each
We are getting too old for this.
Later I found the rice we brought
to throw at the wedding
in the movie
forgotten in the bottom of my purse.
How had we had missed that scene?
poem about going to see rocky horror at midnight and just not being in the mood for the shenanigans, and feeling like an old lady way WAY too early in life—that’s what strikes me most about this now— how i felt that at 26 years old i was so “past my prime” and how at 30 or 31 when i wrote this i STILL felt that way. now i’m 38 and know better.
published in Cooweescoowee, which i have lost my copy of somewhere in my messy house, but i believe it was the spring ’04 issue.