nocturnal exhibit

artificial light seeps in
from behind the inch-thick pane
a crowd flattens into silhouette
just for a glimpse
but nothing happens
this is nothing unusual
and the spectacle
they say
is worth the waiting
in the mean
there are mutterings
those who have waited hours to see it
a frantic musk permeates
the long sprung carpet
nothing happens
hours pass
attendance pulses
as the impatient are culled
and nothing happens
finally the last of the hopeful
are swept out with the peanut shells
and cigarette butts
craned eyes glued to corners
as bodies go unwillingly
to exit doors
but the effort is for naught
and as it turns out
the sloth had been dead for days


About Moly

Average, boring, self-involved human. Twitter: @CultOfCocktails Facebook:
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