The Performance Poem by Myra Jefferson

Must I starve to be seen?
Must I die to be heard?
How many measures co-exist in each word?

There's no rhythm in the blues
There's no reason to the rhyme
So why is the chorus the same every time?

If practice makes perfect
Then why is it worse, every time I get to a verse?

Is it a solo, a duo, or a trio of three,
A quartet, a quintet, or maybe just me?
What about the audience, can they hear me okay?
Do you think that they'd notice if I just walked away?

Cause there's just too much shadow
And not enough light
So which way do I exit?
Stage left or stage right?

Or is on the stage where you do what you do?
Can you take direction, do you have your cue?

Do you know the author?
Do you know the plot?
Maybe you're acting, maybe you're not.

The melody is simple, the tempo is too
But you can; 't even sing while you do what you do

Will you starve to be seen?
Will you die to be heard?
All I can say is, your song is absurd.