Allison Cuellar

Cabaret

In the heat of battle,

My forehead sweats and palms

Wet (is it from the haze?)

Flying higher than birds,

The twinkle of stars

Illuminate the brown

Pits, brown as dirt,

And I narrow my eyes.

(For I will not reach those heavens!)

My dusky voice echoes

In caves, and stalactites

Sound these sighs of things.

Alone, I dream in bars.

Alone, I fly in smoke.

Alone, I sing to walls,

And dim streetlights

Cast shadows down streets.

All of these men speak,

And yet I think.

My voice is shrill and shallow.

My dreams fill in dusk.

For when I dream, I fly.

For when I dream, I drink

Staled wines delightful to these

Blackened eyes!

Language is the great equalizer!

(So why are these dreams silent,

Spilling streams of phasing,

Pictured clouds? Shadowing

The hills below?)

I narrow my eyes, through

The smoky bar.

I look at closed doors,

Walking through misty moors,

Kicking chair legs with

My toes. Fingering

Yellowed pages, and sore.

I recline my back to

Slump in my chair.

Slowly sipping at my whiskey.

Drowning my world with

Waterfalls. To see the

Animals drink. Drink

And drink, and drink

We are the choir invisible.