Voice

How she tried to dance

The girl in the magenta blouse

Swinging her arms up and down

Tossing her long blond curls 

Smiling with teeth like pearls

Bumping and thrusting her tall

Girl's body against him

The guy in the olive T-shirt

Black glasses from the Fifties

Not even wanting her maybe

Wishing he did as the singer

Full beard lean body sang

High pitched voice full of pain

His body bent by his youth

And his age stirred with alcohol

Eyes focused on his song

Not the girl flailing as if drowning

In her own pink desperation

Nor the lanky boy aware only

Of his unfulfilled self embarrassed

Just enough to walk away not hearing

The plaint of the singer's voice

More beautiful than anything 

He or she would ever know

Jameson  2/13/12