Boys and Girls and Music

Heavily scented and bunched together
like perfume-heavy spring blossoms,
giggles of girls stand side-stage,
hoping to get a flicker of a smile
from the boy-handsome musicians
who are throwing stabs of music
from their various instruments
at the broken-dreamed young men
who in turn throw themselves back
against the industrial steel barriers
as though their disaffection might
be contagious and spread itself
out and into the world of the modern celebrity.

This morose music has a kind of gravity
that sucks in dour, sad looking boys
who sport crows-eyes, raven noses
and black feathered asymmetric hair;
who have no inherent sense of rhythm
yet know enough to look as though
they might be as interestingly intense
as the band on stage in front of them
so that the girls who gather in giggles
at the side of the stage and swoon
might instead cast their lascivious looks
towards the audience rather than the stage
and chase the darkness out of their eyes forever.