Karaoke Blues
The world has lost
the oppressive shadow of the sun:
tonight, we shelter our lives
in warm mellow music. Our music.
We release the violet fire
that burns within, redolent with passion,
in bitter tears tinged with the raw blue notes
of an artificial piano. The pitch matches perfectly.
And our voices dance in vivid whirlpools:
we forget for an instant
the violent torrents of the usual
nine-to-five shift, lost instead
in the swirling heat of naked summer starlight.
Our eyes chase each other into the night.
