Poets on cue cross the stage. A quivering heart turns over words, delicate as new shoots on spring bulbs. A waitress at the cash box sorts checks, counts the stiffs, searches pockets hoping she can make it up. Breath beads the window in a blur. Humming birds circle feed.
Sweat glistens the brow.
Hand a tremble, an old man's voice cracks like a schoolboy's. A girl in red, tattooed and pierced, reads fire between her legs, a passion for learning as if it's by heart. A man whispers white trash, then relieves himself in a dozen public couplets. Cadets chuckle the backdrop. You wait for a clearing in the sound.