the magic, the high
of hitting that A flat,
trying not to laugh
as the elation of four hundred voices flows through me,
the memory of arms around me,
and surrounded by dear daring friends
free
beneath my scratchy purple robe
and the searing lights
mouth open wide
blue before me, filling up
with the energy,
with the magic, the high,
life howling around me
at a hundred miles an hour
keeping the joy in my mouth
and my hands
and my chest and my legs and the air
my friends-
feel this heartbeat
the clap stomp roar
the requiem exultation
and the sweet sweet keen
tenor flow and alto strain and the
oh the high notes-
feel us together,
feel this world in our throats like gold,
the magic, the high
of a Tuesday night
and alive.