Done It. Poem by Alistair Plint

The lights dim
just before
the curtain closes
Some take a bow, some curtsy
not that it matters, really
When it's done, it's done
They say
"it ain't over till the fat lady sings"
Never found a truth
in that
Hell, even heard
"the show, must go-on"
nothing there for me either

Truth is
when it's packed and done
frocks move to wardrobe
the dressing mirror lights die
We take the walk down
the long, dark, musky corridors
Well at that time
the show has been done;
never been one
to hold on to them
Have this ability
to walk, the walk to the
car park
knowing the last six months are done

With or without a fat lady
definitely without
a show
that must go on
When the curtain closes
well then the show has been done


[.]