don’t call us, we’ll call you

he goes away with a drooped head
followed by the eyes of alley cats
without applause, without flowers
his key monologue remains unsaid

he goes away in a fading ray
stepping over scattered set and props
and wind frays his shadow on the wall
like the theater bill of a failed play

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2018

entr’acte

hands slumbered like doves
on eave then soared up swiftly
alarmed by plaudits

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2018