Sunday Night at the Lyric Theatre
The performance itself wasn't so bad
once the blue velvet curtain stopped tearing
far enough to collapse onto the goldfish bowl
and break, causing the animals to flip and flop
all over the stage.
Pinpricks of light forming the Milky Way
while the cymbals clashed and piano banged upon
by the maestro with disheveled hair and horn-rimmed glasses
had a picture of Stokowski on top near a stein of authentic German beer.
That warmth covering me came from the magician's cloak
on stage a grin reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat
why regard a friend from a century ago
magnificent adrenaline rushed up and down the stairs
flying Phantom of the Opera
but invisible sitting on top of the unprepossessed
crucible carrying nothing but
two flames dancing as bodies on stage.
Copyright 2010 Julie Kovacs