We sat at the table
Waiting on our drinks
Watching
The flamenco dancer on stage
Stomping her feet
Violently
And rapidly
The guitarist invited us to clap along
But there was
No hope of that
We could not even applaud
At the right times
The dancer
Would stop
And then we would applaud
And she would stamp right on through
Like a mother
Scolding her children
She snapped her head
As flamenco dancers do
And looked at my friend and smiled
Our drinks
Arrived
Eventually

May 27, 2021 at 07:40PM