Red Bank's Carlton Theatre
A poem by Gloria Rovder Healy
It wasn’t the deep south.
No sign at the entrance read:
Negroes must sit in the balcony.
No ominous warning
on the rest room door said:
“Whites only.”
Intimidating messages were hidden
behind smiling masks, clouded bifocals.
In the thirties, white fans sat downstairs to see
Gable and Leigh in “Gone With the Wind.”
Coloreds watched McDaniels and McQueen
from the dark balcony.
Stars shining on the silver screen were welcomed.
In the forties, Fort Monmouth soldiers,
Strangers in town who didn’t see the signs,
Smoked Luckies in the restrooms
Sat in plush orchestra seats eating
chocolate Hershey bars with almonds.
Times changed – the Carlton became the “Basie.”
Saturday nights opera buffs applaud “Carmen.”
Music lovers listen to Monmouth Civic Chorus’
“Sea
Symphony,”
or rock to “Springsteen Live.”
The theater is no longer a black and white movie
house.
Clear glass doors invite you into a brightly lit lobby
No shadows no signs.
A sculpture of
the Count welcomes.
Spring 2008 Poetry:
WHAT'S YOUR POETRY by Doris Arnett Gary
FEATURED POET Joop Bersee
EDITOR'S CHOICE Ashok Niyogi
GUILIN NOODLES by CJ Hallman
FREDDY'S FATHER by Gil Fagiani
WOMEN AT THE DINER by Gina Larkin
WOMAN OF OLIVES by Emma Lorelei Brennan
GHOST by Arlene Tribbia
TO MY AUNT WHO WAS RECENTLY FOUND DEAD IN A MOTEL
ROOM by JoHannah Ash
RED BANK'S CARLTON THEATRE by Gloria Rovder
Healy
READING by Em McAvan
AMEN by Devin T.N. Tanchum
CHRISTMAS COLD by John Bowden
INSIDE by Laine Sutton Johnson
BEAUTY by John McDermott
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