Performance

Dim lights and the roar of a crowd,
chanting, calling, singing.

His form appears, maniacal
in every way, energetic.
Astounding.
The cheers grow louder, more intense.
A bond is immediately created.

The music starts,
notes and rhythms pulsating
through the air,
vibrating the cavities
of the crowd
with sounds they love to hear.

His sharp wit,
his fast tongue,
the audience eats it up.
He adores this,
would never give it up.

Intermission,
to catch a breath,
drink some water,
but it is only temporary.

Darkness and warmth
surrounding, covering;
the bulging flame shoots toward the ceiling lights.

Powerful and determined
poised, ready;
the bang, bang, clash of the energy
starts everything off again.

His mouth open,
his breathing rushed.
Black hair falls on his face in greasy strands.
His stance is forceful, arrogant.
Commanding.
Gripping the pole as if it were the haughtiest of weapons,
he drives it to the ground
like a flag in soil,
staking his claim.

He is on an adrenaline high,
mighty and important.
Strong.
He is wanted, he is needed.

His face down, arms spread wide,
still holding into the stand,
the music fades around him.
Sweat shines on his face,
glowing ethereally in the dim lighting.
It’s over, but it is only temporary,
only for tonight.

Two days from now, in a different city,
the lights and the fire,
the raw energy,
the sweat,
the love,
he will do it all again.

The crackle of the music fading away
soothes the eventual end.
The flame lingers in the shadows long after
the stage lights have gone out.