covid,
the cold,
the economy,
something keeping
everyone at home.
but the band plays
on as if there's
standing room only.
the blues seem appropriate
tonight.
the low scream
of the guitar
as they sing, the thrill
is gone,
the rattle of drums,
the guy on the keyboard
lost in his
youth, never looking
out
to see who's come.
the empty jar
on stage, saying everything
that needs to be said.
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