A cripple dragged me to the opera

 

            Out of pity, and her pretty face,

            I endured the goings on

 

            There was an air of

            Putrefying flowers about it all –

            The fading voices, costumes coloured

            Overbright as if to shove us into gaiety,

            Comedy played broad enough

            For any five year old

 

            And then, I sighed,

            Ballet to boot!

 

            Just as I had turned

            To tell my unfamiliar friend

            I couldn’t stand it anymore

 

            I caught a glimpse:

 

            To say the dancer was in stationary motion

            Like a spinning hub or feeding hummingbird

            As she was hovering en pointe at centre stage

            Would do disservice

            To the sweet vibrato of her trance-like grace

            And slender heaven-reaching ecstasy

 

            The apparition caught me in the throat

            As I sagged down and wondered at the price

 

            Later that night I tried and tried,

            In vain,

            To kiss my consort’s feet