BLACK MASS

NOTE: I'm a huge admirer (is 'fan' a dirty word?) of Johnny Depp. I have always loved his acting roles and him as a person aside from the acting - his love of literature, friendship with Hunter Thompson etc. This poem has more to do with Hollywood than it does with Mr. Depp. It's simply a truthful account of how I felt after attending my first Hollywood movie premiere as a bystander amongst the crowd.


BLACK MASS 
by matt burns

Here I am in the middle of this crowd
Camera high above my head
My trusty third eye
Much higher than the other two
I see everything with this crazy zoom.

The crowd moves along with him
Down the steel barricades
It reminds me of a swarm of bees
Like the kind you see in a cartoon.
But I expected much worse
I envisioned a bunch of screeching boars
Sweating autograph hounds
Aggressive paparazzi.
In fact, I drank 24 ounces of Four Loco as precaution
I felt it was the only proper way to experience this
I needed desensitization
Armor.
I don't do well in crowds
Let alone movie premiere crowds
Not that I've ever been in one
I'm popping my cherry tonight.
But, no, the fans seem tamer than imagined
Everyone smells nice, too
An amalgam of perfumes and colognes, lotions, shampoos
Maybe this is the Four Loco talking
The twelve-percent alcohol volume
It's possibly changed my perception of the reality
Maybe it's not as ok as it seems.

I've been glued to the viewfinder mostly
It's been the only way I can see him
I decide to take one glance away
And holy shit!
He's there
In the flesh
Maybe ten feet away from me tops
A swarm of buzzing bees in front of me, of course
But about ten feet tops.
It's surreal
Everything 'til now has been media 
Images
Video
Film
But now he's 3-d reality.

He finishes signing the autographs 
Gives the fans a salute
Hugs his bodyguard in thanks
Hops into a black SUV
SUV speeds away
Crowd disburses
And I eventually disburse, too
Each street I walk becomes quieter
Darker
Quieter

I buy a 24oz. beer at the store on Beacon Street
Where is everyone?
I'm the only one in the place.
I find a dark bench on the BU campus, my alma mater
It's a good place to pour the beer into my thermos
It's the same thermos I had the Four Loco in.
I get most of it into the thermos
But it's frothy as hell
Shit!
Can only fit so much
I make sure nobody's close
And I drink what's left in the can.

I sip
It's dark
I'm alone
Damn, man
He seemed so cool!
I don't want to admit it
But he just seemed so cool!
Maybe I've caught the fever
The energy of adulation
Can't shake it
He just was so cool!

Seeing him tonight
Bodyguards surrounding him
Police men
Publicists
The whole entourage
It was the antithesis of this dark
Lonely 
Bench.
Going from buzzing movie premiere
To this dark emptiness
It's rattling.
I sit here
Sipping on a beer
Alone inside this empty vacuum of space
Feeling like such a nobody.

Obviously this is not true, you will say
I am a somebody
As much a somebody as him
That's cliche though
We're all full of worth, they say
You read it in every self-help book
Every motivational speaker preaches this good news
It really is true
We're all somebody
But, fuck it
Yes
No
Shake it off!
I'd be remiss if I denied the feelings
Maybe it's a disease I caught from the fans
Maybe Hollywood came into Boston like a demon
And totally fucked with my wiring!
That's what Hollywood's always done
Portrayed its stars to be gods
A true Black Mass perhaps it was
Celebrating idolatry
I was paddocked behind steel barriers with the herd
And there "He" was on the other side
He seemed so somebody
And I feel so nobody
My mind says not true
Remember those self-help books!
But my feelings
Right now
Say 
So 
True