A room in the basement,
easy access except the elevator
hasn’t worked for years.
Stairs down to the meeting,
up to go forth. How pleasant
for people whose obesity,
diabetes and other complications
make it unaccessible.
Colorful non-rectangular frames
filled with artwork by students
now long-since parents.
Each week get chairs out,
meet and put them back.
But don’t sit in that corner.
The airflow drowns out sounds.
Posters occasionally,
not mimes…those hadn’t been named.
But like that. Like relics
of performances, long since left
in teenage sanctums. Like ads
in magazines extorting benefits
of congregational life.
A room so familiar,
the value of the gathering so great,
it really didn’t seem overpriced
at five bucks a month.