Point Of View...

This is a short piece about a person working at a bar in the swarm of a gig.. Its a point of view.



Here comes the swarm, a collection of dark laced faithful waiting for the Musical onslaught. I stand in suspense as the showcase becomes alive, the excitement generates, the life forms masking the floor that once was in remission. I clear my senses, relax my tense body, and stand assured that the night will flow like a river minus rocks and ferocity. I widen my eyes to observe the sway, the up-tempo vibe cuts through the twittering flock, as the prime entertainers scurry to the platform with urgency and balance.

The spark of darkness covers the bustling array, the showcase elevates into guitar frenzy, empowering the parade into a trance, postponing all matter of reality.. I stand at my post like a sergeant anticipating a battle for the haze preparing their mouths for a wet treat. The small army flap their arms like wings to edge themselves from a swamp, the sweat soaked crew latch onto the bar like leeches craving a suckle...

My ears try to address the demand; my mind becomes a narrow corridor, I am fixated on one task, to get through the shift with professionalism and grace. I broaden my confidence; I ease myself into a conveyer like state, like a vendor machine on overdrive. My input is a refreshing additive for the crowd drained and fatigued from a moshpit in a volatile mode, a mode with no release lever..

As the craze concludes my mind eases its tension, my body relaxes into a soothing motion, the final melody streams through the crowd, as the night burns out. A euphoric vibe becomes a subtle drench, as the swarming collection bows out. I prepare for closure, bones aching, craving relaxation, and waiting for the rock fest to halt... The wagging tongues confide in the free liquid on offer, a sea that once was crazed becomes a free flowing river.

Mark McConville