Rising Star

A young blonde girl in plain white blouse and blue jeans worn over canvas shoes a guitar electric a mic so black backup group all so young strident runs shattered amiss crashing chords stumbling about caressing the mic with lips thin but red with moaning sounds sung that might be words the audience screams somehow not in pain in ecstasy they dance to the sounds that are played and watching do I wish that some how a remote had I that could fast forward them I am told they are great the very latest thing the critics all rave I don’t stand amazed