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The Solo Performer
Light dims down to semidarkness
And we wrinkle our eye corners.
Our cloudy vision through a billowy
Dusty curtain picks the figures shadowy.
The performer begins biting the bass.
No accompaniments. His own' super-cell' harmony.
Very conceited the performer overdoes becoming gloomy
And the concert cracks along the octaves
With the burbling sound of notes.
Unbalanced, lo, he becomes angry
And now with dismantled beats and bangs
The performer kicks, rolls, and scrolls
Sounding screaming, crackling, creaky, croaky
With all that improper concerto music squawky
Toppling you and me in thundery shivers.
Everything getting topped up in swirls
Yelling 'tornado tornado'and falling on each other
We run away from that killer twister
Guarding ourselves from that shearing windstorm!
poem
by
Indira Renganathan
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