Traditionally, my first post of the year is a poëm. This year, however, I was spurred on to write about a health issue (q.v.). So for my second post herewith something I originally wrote in the nineties, prior to becoming disabled, when I used to attend lots of artistic events. I suspect many are missing such activities due to the constant, pandemic lock-downs. Just maybe, I might be now willing to put up with irksome audiences! I have done a wee bit of adding and editing as well as redesigning the layout. Oh, and a warning for swearing!
the audience
at every queer performance:
gay men chattering
so much to say
gossiping
and bitching
one of whom
invariably
will leave mid-way
for the lavatory
lesbians
in multiple layers
removing one sweater
at every vital moment
with frizzy hair
enough for three
statically charged
so as no-one can see
anything of import
serious music concerts:
Jewish ladies
hard of hearing maybe
whispering all too audibly
throughout
elderly couples
pass boiled-sweets
triple-wrapped
for maximum annoyance
and there’s always someone
with a chesty cough
a rattling burst
during anything vaguely piano
and everything pianissimo
cinema visit nightmares:
escape from surreality
proves an impossibility
crunching hands clawing at popcorn
incessant banter
questions
patter
a constant stream
of those who arrive late
and then worst fate
bouncing feet
on the back of the seat
rocking ire
might explode
one of these days
for gods’ sake
shut the fuck up
I want to experience
the performance
not the blasted audience
*
