John Grey writes

THE PREMIERE AND ELSEWHERE

As I recall,

we didn’t step

out of a limo,

stroll down

a red carpet,

faces speckled

with glitzy lights.

Nor was I in tux

and you in a

figure-hugging

sparkling red gown

with a plunging neckline

and slit up to the thigh.

We didn’t smile for

the crowds,

pose for the photographers,

small talk with celebrities,

attend a gala party after.

In fact,

it was a suburban multiplex,

mid-winter,

and we parked beside

a snowbank,

stumbled across the

icy lot,

wore jeans and jackets

and high boots,

bought tickets

and went inside.

But, the thing is,

we all saw the same movie.