The turntable of my mind
is set to schizophrenic repeat.
It plays all night.
Nonchalant dancers in Carmen-style shoes
stamp hundreds of cockroaches
in the Royal Albert Hall.
The audience watches.
They hop in preoccupied rhythm
with unchanging snare drums,
grip roses in their mouths,
all wide-eyed and wild,
bared teeth mistaken for smiles.
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| Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec |
