In The Theatre

In this dark crowd,

Laughter, tears, all shared, all

Alone. No community more unknown,

No lovers match that silver face.

Feel the dulcet throb of speakers,

See the pores on the actor’s nose;

The laughter, the gun, the music sting,

The knife, held underhand, the terrible eye,

The gumshoe in the rain,

The moustache twitch during each new lie,

To spend a day, alive in a lonely,

lively

crowd

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