2016-06-12
Vivienne Glance
"Like a Virgin - Touched for the very first time..."
Lunch break in the city
sound cuts into your consciousness
saws at your concerns
office hassles, project behind time, God! the boss is an idiot! Sometimes ...
"Like a Virgin ...."
Over and over, just those two lines.
You turn a corner and she is sitting there
cross-legged on the pavement.
Singing with her chin up and her eyes down – avoiding your stare.
Her voice comes from a starving void inside
scratches through her chest
scrambles up her throat
then splats out into the fumes.
Your path goes right past.
You'll be in smelling distance of her.
Like all the other street detritus you'll just ignore her.
"Touched for the very first time..."
Her voice stumbles
she is fragile in a brittle kind of way
A truck drives past
The rumble will shatter her – you scream inside
But as the vibrations fade her voice remains ...
"Like a Virgin..."
You crumble at the edges.
A few coins find their way into your hand
you don't look they could even be gold
but you pay for her pathetic attempt at dignity
pay for your guilt that this can happen today
when we have more than ever before
we live longer than ever before
when we ignore more than ever before
all the lost and the left of this city
you hate this churning pity
but as the coins fall onto the cardboard in front of her
that's what you reveal
when her eyes flick for a second in your direction
that's what you conceal and it burns
scars your ignorant bliss
punches like a fist.
And she continues to sing - and you walk on
"Like a Virgin, Touched for the very first time..."
Photo: A Perth Poetry Club reading by Viv Julie Scanlon