A poem about the realization of a dream for a kid that always felt different.
Howling at the Pink Moon
“The Pink Moon” was a perfect name.
Floating in a dream of rainbows as Sid slept.
Creating a musical palace for “geeks and freaks.”
Velvet smooth champagne, glistening chandeliers.
Fun, festive, sexy, campy and unique.
Waiting for his life’s inspiration,
a message had been sent from afar.
Glamorous costumes, spot lights on a grand stage.
Professional makeup, a star’s time to play.
Teasing dancers in lite circling cages.
He had the right people, plenty of green.
Finally, beautiful artists could be seen.
Up the building went, papers signed.
Designers snickered at his plans.
They plunged ahead, with pockets lined.
Drinks in glitter cups, lush tropical fruits.
Flavored liqueurs, named for famous stars,
Bette Davis Eyes Punch, a Joan Crawford Blush.
interviewing his lineup was a fabulous rush.
Two Chers, Madonnas, Barbras, a lovely bunch.
Opening night was stellar, a curious press,
Private rooms hosted a “Black and White” Warhol ball.
A long time friend catered from his divine bistro.
The boys in the band backed his grand dames.
"Absolutely Fabulous" was the main show.
Sid had wished upon a star a long time ago.
Other kids had laughed at his ideas and clothes.
He knew dreams took time to grow and bloom
After everyone left happy and spent, Sid looked up.
The neon sign “The Pink Moon” glowed bright.
A couple of stray dogs howled with delight.
By Kathie Stehr
May 5, 2021