Drama Queen

She shaded you. All these years spent
huddled in the penumbra of her smiles,
misread. They demurred, ignored her wit,
and brushed you off in turn, snarling.

Each day, whenever your hope shone
and tried a greeting or an answer,
a studied glance jeweled to impress,
they only sniffed, or hissed, or sighed.

What they felt for her poured freely
from those turbulent waters into your lap,
no matter that in your alliance
she was the drama queen, and you

Dissolved in her presence.
Numbers, they say, breed safety
but like two fabrics roughed together
the louder always leaves a charge.

– 1 October 2016

It was just (20 October)

“Can you believe the stuff we said about her?”

Do we regret that no composer
will stoop to set these
adolescent afternoons to song and
score these turgid lives?

Suburban echoes voiced
in ten thousand variations
fill these listless days
lacking opera’s consequence.

Lightly seasoned by these few
clicking notes but more by
beats, stops and breaths that
bend them towards boredom’s offspring.

They trill the line, so unaware:
tragedy, comedy?

“Well I feel bad now.”