divas
lady gaga songs come on
in a bar full of old men watching football
on a sunday afternoon
and i think
what in the fuck?
but then it’s cher
donna summer
diana ross
adele and britney spears
it’s last dance at
full speed
but i’m only on my third beer
this has to be some kind of joke
because the joint has suddenly morphed
into an old fag bar
have i been gone from here that long?
maybe they changed owners, i think
but the music keeps coming
courtesy of an old, thin queen
who keeps getting up to pump dollars in the juke
as cincy and baltimore play
another autumn sunday into oblivion
then it’s christina auguilera
mariah carey
saint whitney houston
beyonce
and something called a nicki minaj
before the immortal madonna blares
express yourself
in a club remix for good measure
queeny keeps asking everyone
if they like the music
like he’s mayor
the grand dame d.j. of this diva joint
we all say, yeah
and he goes back to his dumpy blonde
at the end of the bar
contented
back to a woman who’s singing the madonna so loudly
i might never listen to the material girl again
and when colin comes in the bar
he kind of looks around
like he might be in the wrong place too
but then he sits and orders
his bud draft and the shot of jack
that he’s been sucking down for years
as a express yourself ends
and a last dance
encore begins
as old men oblivious to disco hits
shout at the tv screen
and roll dice for money and free drinks
a whole row of newly anointed bears
only they don’t know it
and after colin takes down half the draft
he turns to me and says
what?
no celine dion this week?
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