kickin’ up our heels

the play’s the thing
and it was a bad night
the flats ripped
the gaffers gripped
and penny from makeup
hated her boyfriend so much
she made all the men look
like mean gorillas
and it’s a love story
benny fell from the grid
during the romantic climax
landed on the lovely couple
fists flew and the antagonist
broke it up not very apt
for the villian
as such the little audience
remaining cheered him
and booed the black-eyed couple
instead. O torture
to be beautiful and booed
then the rain mercifully put out the lights
we staggered around playing
human pinball until the grip
flipped the breaker
to find the audience
caught cross-groping
we brutually pushed to the end
and the pitter patter applause
was, at least, extant
nonetheless
there is nothing but the show
we play until death
we shine the flickering candle
of our creativity into nothing
empty and we shall never have it back
and that’s the choice
the bravest act of all
playing on the edge of the abyss
as if our little actings
ripple out to everything
we play

This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply