Justin Karcher reflects poetically on his trip to Mary Kate O'Connell's cabaret show
Three Simple Things
By Justin Karcher
There are some things
I can just stare at
with nothing happening
and be content
a half-lit stage
before the cabaret
piano, bar
and mic stand
I suppose that yes
this might be
what the mind looks like
where ghostly memories hang out
they’re mostly busy ignoring our texts
when we’re trying to recall them
when we’re desperate for direction
when we’re showering with vermouth
that sense of impending doom
sometimes I think that
memories want nothing to do with us
they ignore us, they make us work
for their affection, we have to win them back again
sometimes I think that
we have to jumble up memories
for them to spring back to life
mix them together like a constellating stew
something tasty rising from what’s forgotten
a little bit of magic to undo what’s rotten
to shake the dust off our feet
to shake the words off our lips
that sense of impending joy
hairbrush skyscrapers emerging from dandruff dirt
stuffed animals taking Ubers to the imagination
cities growing in jello mold pans, shape as we wish
and never stand in the back
the music from bars that don’t exist anymore
songs that should always squeeze out of sweaty pores
violins flying in the sky like scrap-scavenging seagulls
the kind of dancing that should always secrete shivers
and it all starts with remembering
a half-lit stage
before the cabaret
piano, bar
and mic stand