Curtain Call

                                Curtain Call


              The voice of rage and ruin run round the room
              While party players plead plebian plights
              And dancers dine on dim delights
              All are actors awaiting applause

              Someone laughs loudly—lingering loneliness
              Another silently cries in the cold
              Attic crypt of consciousness

              Bemused smiles and serious looks
              A glance of suspicion solicits
              Another’s acknowledging nod
              A cough, a wink, a wry smile

              What does it all mean?  This madness?
              Wordlessly watching.