deepundergroundpoetry.com

Black Sheep

The power's out at home.
I just wish I was capable
of imagining it
as a surging blackness
heading in this direction
plunging every pub, dive
and venue in to a jaw dropping
'what the fuck just happened' gasp
that no one can see.

He's on the television
and sells every seat in the house,
but never look to the public
when in search of a reliable verdict
of another man's talent.
They need little more than a quick shove
in the direction of
'you might like this'
and for all they care
they could be watching the pope
wanking in to a baby's nappy.

Whatever, that was unnecessary...
Still, just imagine not even being able
to hear the audience's gasp
as they are plunged in to an interior night
because the show relays need power too.
Imagine their panic
and that precious tosser on stage
flipping out
about having to cut his act short.

I know all the places in the building
where I could watch them from.
Not one of them would see me
nor would they see each other.
They'd just bounce off each other
blindy,
but I suppose
that's how they got here
in the first place.
Written by CruelHandedWriter (Jamie Rhodes)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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