Five Hour Dance Recital in Hot Auditorium
Little girls in skimpy costumes
like some lecher’s fantasy.
They’ve been carefully coached
to be seductive for the cheers
of the audience. The pelvic
thrust, looking over the shoulder
arms akimbo. False eyelashes
and lipstick on an 8 year old,
and the throb of deafening music.
It goes on for hours in a hot
auditorium, a performance space
from the last century where
the plaque outside says
Helen Hayes played here.
But now sweaty fathers in shorts
and tee shirts sit on the front
steps scrolling their phones
looking for relief from this ordeal
a scene like a state fair cattle show
where their daughters are displayed.
Wow. That paints a picture.
Reality, thy name is Pat Owen! I can’t tell you how many people who have gone to recitals (besides parents) comment on the “mature” aspects of the dance. Love the mention of Helen Hayes.
Thanks for “getting it” Glad it resonated with you
I’ve never been, but I trust your wise insights. Thanks, Pat.
Sooooo true; like this poem and really agree with that horrendous pushing of 8 year olds into something they never want to become.
But they do like the limelight–part of the problem
ooph–the comparison to being on display at the state fair cattle show. That simile makes a heckuva statement!