EMPTY ORCHESTRA

Love, is just
a karaoke.

You think you know
the words

(until you sing along)
and find you only know

half a chorus or maybe a word or two
and you...try to bluff your way through.

Not too sure
how it goes

you sing high when
it sings lows

(and vice versa)

and at half ****** past
13 o’ clock

when they’re trying
to shut

the ****** thing
down

you stand there
(defiantly alone)

with a gin and bitter lemon in the one hand
and a burnt out *** in the other

(running mascara
making you look more

panda-like
than a living doll)

and croak
harshly hoarsely

out of tune
&
out of time

I WILL SURVIVE
...& crying.

Crying.

It’s alright, darlin’

We’ve
all been there

...sometime.