suits and dresses grow relentless and tight

until they read in their programs

(the inside back page, no less)

 

that the performers will not conform,

not here and certainly not tonight

(or so the great whispers sing out)

 

but that in time others will pretend

to be before their open eyes and

entirely upon the very same stage--

 

at which applause appears to appease

their covert, unwrapped attention

and folks arise to rain-check tonight

 

and squander their ways alone,

in teams of two or more

to TV and toast and cardboard beds

 

crying privately and pathetically

from hollowed-out pockets

in restless, weightless heads