It's been awhile since I wrote something for Velvet Verbosity's 100 Word Challenge. I guess it's National Poetry Month, or something, and I don't really do poetry often, but I was inspired this time. I give you:
Poetry Slam
“Midnight plays piano,” she said,
And my eyes are rolling already.
“Velvet black, or blue, jazz like ink… blots…”
And I need a drink, or maybe shots
Lined up on the bar, one after the other.
And she’s got the moves, hands waving.
I can almost feel it in my guts, moving, almost powerful,
And the audience rapt.
Until she wails, wordless, arms upraised, uplifted.
And the crowd responds in kind, uplifted too.
The Artist goes on, but I hear nothing but empty noise after
noise, echoing
And pretty, and not pretty, and pretty empty, and prettily
empty, after all.
