I look to see stars instead
an industrial tapestry, pipes and plaster painted dark and one
swinging lamp―softly
the caterwauling guitar insists
I look to the stage, where colors vault over each
note a sight of a sound of
a thrumming before them: young women, long
hair unwashed, beating their breastbones with carved kitsch
heavy on string―women, yanking
long skirts from side
to side as if to tear the fabric
in two
meanwhile the men
behind them clutch half-full bottles a tightened grip: they
are not staring
the tempo quickens; the women plunge hips after it; the men
sipping
do not stare
but tilt their gazes upward―toward
the stars
suzannedendy.wordpress.com 