Curtain Call

I imagine,

The curtain call will

Be a somber one.

The people will

Hesitantly stand for ovations

That sound too much like thunder

That sound too much like violence

That sound like 

Acceptance

Of the fact

That there won’t be an encore.

I imagine

Make up will be smeared

The baby crying in the back

Row

Will fight 

To find his way home

Back to the womb

The lights will be blinding

And the high will wayne.

There will be no flowers.

People will pour into the rows

Before the bowing happens

They will bow out

Like a clogged drain

Slowly

Succumbing

To gravity.

There will be a weight

On our hearts.

Some will hold hands.

Some will search for the fire exit.

Others

Will climb down

From their balcony seats

Looking for the vip exit

There will be none of that.

Dress rehearsals

Would’ve never prepared us

For the day

The fat lady 

Gained enough confidence

To start singing.

And she’ll start singing loud

And glass with break

And the earth will quake

And the curtain

Will close. 

And the silence will come

And it’ll be deafening.