Sunday, November 19, 2006

Pop

Mary J
Inspired by One
09-01-06




donning
a mourning cloak
he enters the gauntlet
alone

a soul
open for business

"I don't need...I don't need to hear you say
That if we weren't so alike
You'd like me a whole lot more"

He strides through
streets paved
in blue and in black

a cacophony
of grime,
his lingering sorrow

Defying solid rock walls
that would suffocate
his voice,
the soloist walks on

until at last he
reaches the tunnel
where darkness
is overcome by the colors
of peace

at the threshold he
exchanges the cloak
for silverwings

in a pose
like Barishnikov before him
surrounded by
beaming golden tendrils
he joins the three
and implores,

“currahee!”

grief:
a dangerous garment
he dares us to wear.
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