"Adulation" by David Pring-Mill, Frequent Contributor

Adulation

David Pring-Mill

A sea of hands –

all reaching out,

their fingertips, together merging

into spotlighted skin,

tickling the air.

As dusk hits dirt,

the performer belts out lyrics,

recalling syllables that were

once connected

to her intent, to her sonic expression.

But now these words have lost

all meaning, and yet

they make a thousand echoes,

this lamenting vocabulary

of warrior love.

And she nearly falls again,

so retro, with winged eyeliner, and beehive hair,

with a crown of roses, and she goes

stumbling, embracing,

pleading, and then sitting

with her back turned.

A struggling presence,

unable to assemble itself

from the wealthy conjunction

of worried cells.

Drunkenly, her lips

express an old flirtation,

exposing her fling

with the eradicated states.

and now...

The crowd turns against her,

shouting,

frowning, angry!

Wondering where

is the cord in her back

so they can yank on it,

and make her sing that cherished tune.

Poet's Notes:  I wrote this poem after watching the Academy Award-winning documentary "Amy." I would never presume to fully understand somebody on the basis of his or her media portrayal. Insights are possible, but limited. And so this poem isn't about Amy Winehouse per se. It's more so about the relationship between celebrities and their fans. That relationship is oftentimes a dysfunctional one, in which celebrities are idolized and elevated to a status that is disproportionate to their societal accomplishments. Their privacy is compromised in ways that are consensual and involuntary and strong opinions and judgments are gleaned from unnatural interviews and paparazzi intrusions. This dynamic is dysfunctional from the outset and when you introduce a celebrity into the equation with internal dysfunctions, it's only a matter of time before the entire thing breaks down. People actually die because of this, and it's been happening for decades. My poem "Adulation" is about that process, primarily.