First Trip to the Alley

April 29, 2009

Small shack
Stored behind the way
No flashing lights
Cracked parking lot

The doors squeak
As you enter
Crud covered carpet
Leads down barely lit isle

Left to right
All looks the same
Steel stools
Lining the way

Smoky air
Laminates your lungs
Smell of dirt and disgust
Hazy all around

But through the filth
Something shines
Entertainment and excitement
Fun and fantasy

And booms
Fill the stale air
And cheers

Large balls
All around

Some blue and green
Like the ocean depths

Others awesome orange
As vibrant as the sun

Sliding down the lanes
With each ball down
Tall white timbers
Topple, fall, and die
In an explosion of force

More cheers erupt
Deafening echoes
In this empty hall

Sweat now fills the nose
Flooding the senses
Tasting, smelling, feeling
The bowling alley

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