roadie of a lifetime

spex of dust were everywhere and still we could not see them. you looked immaculate to me (though sullied by religion the word captured what i saw in you). you somehow had not sold out in a world of sell out crowds. and though it left you virtually alone on stage, without lights or ticket vendors, audience or effect, i would be your roadie. and if only i could, i would be the roadie of a lifetime. doing your makeup in the green room. pear green manicure. strengthening your eyelashes with my famous beeswax and used car oil (i tap it from my very own volkswagen). coaching you in the red room, whispers of unintelligible talking points. making love to you in the eggshell room, comingling of hands and the clock. you have the most striking off-presence, haunting the auditoriums. and after your final bows, the curtains hanging still like they never want it to end, I will hold your hand in the dressing room, fording our river of forgetfulness    -katya