Saturday night

A silent piano plays a sonata

On a bar resonates a finger-led toccata

Drunk souls mumble opera

To the ears of deaf people in no neighborhood

A barman pours pain

In a glass filled with shame

While, in the air, evaporates gain

And broken shards of fame

A once-seductive singer

Stands and recites

Poetry that, no one, excites

While a cordless guitar strums

And feet dance solely

To the beat of no drums.

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