photo by Bert Stern
My voice
cracked on the high notes tonight,
cracked on the high notes tonight,
but I danced fires in the floor.
The ballads swooned sugar and noir.
The door
more
than covered our bar tab. My voice
carried the horns tonight;
my tits held the hecklers in key.
Now, back in room 123-
another drink
and a laugh.
We weren't good,
14 comments:
Ah, this is great, MZ. Such a knowing telling of the story.
Great it is indeed, as always, MZ!!
Are there any videos from your singing days?
What a wonderful poem--full of voice and place.
Great details. Loved the end.
I agree with Kerry. And this fits the mag pic perfectly.
Nice take on the prompt
Any port in a storm !
Sounds like a pretty good night!
Dancing fires on the floor sounds good......."we werent good but we werent half bad." Cool! Keep dancing, MZ.
that sounds fair !
I enjoyed this. The right mix of realism
Really emjoyed this as I wen't down a similar path....well, hotel corridor perhaps..?☺
i can't sing. i can barely talk. but you?... ~
Fun!
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