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#rollerrink
It was a retro roller rink, Skating around boards that gave you splinters, Trying each arcade game, wasting quarters, And how many times you could bribe the DJ to Play your favorite song. He was sitting alone in the corner of the side cafe, At the booth where the floor had a giant crack, Where his foot was nervously tapping, Sunshine was streaming in on his curly red hair, As he waited in suspense for Her To walk through the door, all confidence and smiles, Like she was the lead in a musical. She had that magical way of walking and skating, Almost like every move was a Choreographed mix of chaos and art. The hours passed, the rink cleared out, The sun went down over his booth, And he continued to tap his foot on the Crack in the floor. But when she came sweeping in that door at 11:36 pm brighter than the disco ball, His heart swelled like the bass on a road trip, And as the two of them sweat their hearts out On the rink until the wee hours of the morning, That maze of splinters and heartbreaks, He found that he had never been as happy as he was with Her.
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Jan 13, 2020
Jan 13, 2020 at 4:22 PM UTC
TigerLily13
choreographed love
It was a retro roller rink, Skating around boards that gave you splinters, Trying each arcade game, wasting quarters, And how many times you could bribe the DJ to Play your favorite song. He was sitting alone in the corner of the side cafe, At the booth where the floor had a giant crack, Where his foot was nervously tapping, Sunshine was streaming in on his curly red hair, As he waited in suspense for Her To walk through the door, all confidence and smiles, Like she was the lead in a musical. She had that magical way of walking and skating, Almost like every move was a Choreographed mix of chaos and art. The hours passed, the rink cleared out, The sun went down over his booth, And he continued to tap his foot on the Crack in the floor. But when she came sweeping in that door at 11:36 pm brighter than the disco ball, His heart swelled like the bass on a road trip, And as the two of them sweat their hearts out On the rink until the wee hours of the morning, That maze of splinters and heartbreaks, He found that he had never been as happy as he was with Her.
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28
We sat outside the coffee shop next to a fire, watching the sun set behind decrepit buildings. I lamented over the lack of a roller rink in the area, reflecting on memories of wobbling around in circles with dizzying lights and blaring speakers ejecting Pink, Daft Punk, and Eiffel 65 onto my critical youth. I felt like a king. We finished our smoothies and retreated to an empty hotel parking lot, where I taught her to skateboard. One foot over the front bolts, the back foot over two of the back bolts but resting over the tail, kick, push, it's in the ***** of your feet-- weight distribution. Tic, tac, scrape, thud-- she falls repeatedly and gets back up. I admire her resilience and perpetual smile-- This is what skateboarding is all about. We roll around the hotel parking lot, our endpoints being a lone luminescent lamppost and a telephone pole beleaguered by a plot of shrubbery that demarcates itself from the pavement. We circle around the poles for hours, forming an imaginary oblong track between the two, our laughs carrying into the cool summer night lullaby that sang the drowsy small town to sleep. The fading throb of the wedding reception at the bottom of the town square by the wharf, carrying over to us. The stores closed up hours ago, silent empty windows reflecting the lonely streetlights and our ambulance back at us. We skated on unperturbed into the night hour. A man walks outside the hotel to have a cigarette on the sidewalk-- I imagine he is watching us and admiring our glee. Rolling between this telephone pole and lamppost, the glare and reflection of the empty silent windows, the soundtrack singing above our heads, our laughs, and the tic-tac of skateboards and groaning of wheels over stubborn pavement bringing my melancholic reverie to a halt, recognizing and understanding happiness in the present moment-- This is my roller rink.
0
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 1:13 AM UTC
jarjarrhine
Roller Rink
We sat outside the coffee shop next to a fire, watching the sun set behind decrepit buildings. I lamented over the lack of a roller rink in the area, reflecting on memories of wobbling around in circles with dizzying lights and blaring speakers ejecting Pink, Daft Punk, and Eiffel 65 onto my critical youth. I felt like a king. We finished our smoothies and retreated to an empty hotel parking lot, where I taught her to skateboard. One foot over the front bolts, the back foot over two of the back bolts but resting over the tail, kick, push, it's in the ***** of your feet-- weight distribution. Tic, tac, scrape, thud-- she falls repeatedly and gets back up. I admire her resilience and perpetual smile-- This is what skateboarding is all about. We roll around the hotel parking lot, our endpoints being a lone luminescent lamppost and a telephone pole beleaguered by a plot of shrubbery that demarcates itself from the pavement. We circle around the poles for hours, forming an imaginary oblong track between the two, our laughs carrying into the cool summer night lullaby that sang the drowsy small town to sleep. The fading throb of the wedding reception at the bottom of the town square by the wharf, carrying over to us. The stores closed up hours ago, silent empty windows reflecting the lonely streetlights and our ambulance back at us. We skated on unperturbed into the night hour. A man walks outside the hotel to have a cigarette on the sidewalk-- I imagine he is watching us and admiring our glee. Rolling between this telephone pole and lamppost, the glare and reflection of the empty silent windows, the soundtrack singing above our heads, our laughs, and the tic-tac of skateboards and groaning of wheels over stubborn pavement bringing my melancholic reverie to a halt, recognizing and understanding happiness in the present moment-- This is my roller rink.
Continue reading...
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