Why Does the Entire Cast of “High School Musical” Go to my University?
I encountered a mob of frenzied students
in the throes of a musical number.
Each face stretched into song, arms angled toward sky
like a tuning fork attempting to channel thunder’s vibrations.
They danced a choreographed can-can,
legs pumping and kicking scissor-snaps.
They grab my hand, implore me to join in,
and I shrug, tired this early in the morning.
I cannot sing the song they each know every word to,
and if I tried to mimic their dances, I would end up
always half a beat behind, trying to blend in,
my face stretching into smile.
Who’s musical fantasy was this anyways,
that requires so many unwilling participants?
Two leather-jacketed lovers sway in the center of our spectacle,
spinning by themselves.
Oblivious to the circus elephants marching behind us, a plane flying in loops above us,
and the rain of confetti floating fast like a penny dropped from atop the Empire.
The lovers do not look to see if we’ve got the moves right.
They’re not even dancing at all.
Posted on September 16, 2014, in College, Poems, Poetry, Writing and tagged College of Charleston, dance, Derek Berry, music, musicals, poem, poetry, spoken word, word salad, writing. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.