The Dead Singer

Walking past a venue called Hellfire
Dinky little place, painted all black
Stairs down to the door like a hole
Windows boarded so whatever it was inside, you couldn’t see at all
Leaning against the wall was a man holding a red ticket
Staring at it like he couldn’t let it go
Hat tilted low, hiding his face
I was surprised when out came the words, “you know
I’d love to give you this ticket right here”

I stopped for a sec to make sure it was me he was talking too
Silence for a moment, and then I assumed that it was
“What for?”
“For a good time,” he lifted his face and was surprisingly, normal
“Although you’d be alone, you see the people piling in a line,”
He pointed to the people who were to his right stretched around the corner
“Plenty of bodies, just no one you’ll know”
“Who’s playing?” I asked
“A special guest, doesn’t come around often.”
“Rock music?”
“Oh it’s Rockin, you wouldn’t even need to stay for the whole time,
A little is all it will take”
“For what?
“To have some fun”

I thought for a moment
And in one of the brashest things I’ve ever done
I asked, “how much?”
“Oh for you, nothing
It’s the last ticket of the night
Total sum of none” And he handed it to me
It reflected in the shine of the streetlight
I looked at it, reading ADMISSION
Took it, and then headed to the back of the line
“Oh no-no,” he said and ushered me in with his long hands
“Come in come in, you’re the first one up”

After me, everyone else followed
A glow seeped through the eyelids of the door
Down the steps and then I opened it up and saw it
Smokey room, empty stage, beams of light shining tunnels
The show was in 20 minutes someone said
I listened to their whispers,
Talking about how this show was going to be the craziest thing they ever saw
And as I waited at the front, right next to the stage
I began to wonder if I should be there after all

The minutes that followed
Had my anxiety grow
But as the room filled
And the soundcheck crew came
Checking the amps, the drums
I felt like I should ease up
Enjoy some songs
I was here for free anyway
What could go wrong

Right as I reached that thought, the band came out
Picking up their instruments, sitting in front of the kit
All looking like normal people,
Everyone in the crowd gave a cheer, even I
And after a brief silence, a bass line began
Dark and heavy
Just a single note one
Ominous
As ominous as the man who had been out front
As ominous as an oncoming fog
As ominous as how the earliest days on the earth would have been
With simply noone
An ocean with no waves
Too dead for anything to be gone

But here something was, the curtains in the back of the stage began to rustle
And then out jumped a man
A thin thing, tallest thing in the room
Unbuttoned shirt, exposed breastbone tattoos
Rolled-up sleeves housing long arms,
Black slacks that were too small
Showing his black ankle socks
And I recognized that face, one in real life I had never come across
I have listened to his band
Just it’d been forever since he’d been seen alive
I guess he had come back,
From the dead

The Dead Singer began to scream,
And the band wailed
And I could finally exhale
Not of relief, but as a release
Apprehension crushed by the noise
Things were fine at first
The tall man danced around,
Playing music that I enjoyed
Yet still, something was unsound
When he started in between verses, licking his lips
As everyone in the crowd pushed each other around
Getting sweaty
Salty
Ripe

Further into the show, he bounded
Climbed above to perch on the speaker on the corner of the stage
Extended legs bent at the knees, hunched over like he was eating a fawn
And slowly it seems, the curtains were being drawn to the scenes that live in her head
Eating her brains with blood pooled where it stands
The singer bears his teeth in a grin with the microphone in his hand
As he begins to hold its wire from the tips of his long limbs
And down the driveway, it goes in
He truly eats his words
He lives them
Consumes the spit
It crashes into the garage
And he goes further
Pressing the gas pedal
Like it’s not even there
Like the garage door’s not even there
Even tho his bruised body knows
But not his soul

Malnourished face, grotesque at every angle
Skin tight vessel, how numb can a bone become
Black hair standing up tall
He strings the shiny battalion back out of the craw
Withdrawn a used whore
Just like them all
Filthy and foul he spits on them
The reason people hate him,
and the reason people love him
The suspicion died as I became completely enthralled
As he holds his demented abused child
And shouts for you to care for it
Before you can run
What a performance
What a fuck
What a performance
What a fuck

As I became lured
My outstretched arm is one amongst the crowd
I began to hear the snarl, I saw the foam
The long curled tongue
I looked up into his eyes, and I knew
You can’t make this up
She couldn’t make this up
How could the jabberwocky be real?
Such disturbing lyrics
Such a loud band
Such a tormented, enchanting voice
Such prettily disgusting words
Bone-chilling sounds
Such wide jaws
White pearled perch
Behind those thin lips
It had such a nice voice
Such nice teeth
In its mouth
So charming
So beautiful

I shake my head
The Jabberwocky!
I put my hands to my ears
And bumped around trying to escape the hot stew
Of people, musty
Pieces of trash blown around
Cooking, fat sizzling
In the background The Dead Singers shrieks surround
Impossible to navigate through such thick sounds
But I finally find the hole in which I had fallen
And I burst out of hell, back onto earthly ground

I panted like an animal
From running like prey
The quiet is god
I breathed in the silence
I can breathe again

But it’s broken
By a voice
Calm
Collected
Calculated
I look up to see the man with the hat
And for a moment he looked like a dog
A dog man, possibly three heads
But it must’ve been a trick of the light
Was it?
It was just the man with the hat
Who earlier had given me the ticket
And in his soft words, he asked

“Were you entertained?”