Like A Singer In Some Dark Cafe Poem by David McLansky

Like a singer in some dark cafe,
I do not mark the night from day,
But turn and bow and pirouette
And sing the songs of my short set;

I stare out from the foot-light stage
And try to earn a living wage,
The faces in the darkened room
Seem restless in the listless gloom;

I curtsey to the dull applause,
I walk the tables, as in my clause,
I banter with the far from sober,
Avoid the hands that beckon over;

I sip my drink of sloe-gin fizz,
A perk in what is called Show biz;
The tinkle of piano keys
Reminds me nothing is for free;

The luminescence of the light
That spots me in its glare so bright,
Defeats my makeup for the stage
And cruelly notes my lines of age;

But I smile and act as if I'm gay,
Such is life, it's cabaret;
I look out in the smoke filled room,
And cast my spell with mournful tune.