Spent

Spent By Sy Roth Her ears still tremble with the sounds Shocked into somnolence gasping to make sense. The giddy bassist a rue of flapping gums missing the flats, The drummer’s lips moving in asynchronous confusion-- But seem excited She a carved, lost soul curved by existence. Puffs of Kool smoke rising in O’s frame the scene Off camera, and she feels dejected Her voice a raspy concordance of ills Of the world she just flagellated. They stirred the fatalistic mob into a nihilistic frenzy Tired arms from their robust gyrations Oily hair whipping their brows A spent ecstasy of ejaculated postulations As the air quieted to a dull roar And they waited for the next round of guttural pronouncements. She is bent with the effort, Grainy hair framing an awe-shocked brow Unsatisfied now The quiescent instruments and amps no longer giving voice. Her voice now shuttered--- Bandmates off to share brewskis and medicinal snorts. Her song long gone. Spent, she waits for a comforting hand, None to be found. A solitary creature waiting in the never-ending waiting room Spent.