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"Mama" "Mama"
by Dr. Lawrence Nannery
2013-05-23 10:36:09
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The collective eyebrow raises when the chanteuse goes Neapolitan.
The crowd, so casual, so chic, titters, then subsides.

In a trice, in this clean well-lighted place, the clinkings cease.
The voice, first gathering itself to itself, then unreels,
Leading them all back to their own sweet mothers, a magic line
Tying each pale face to the cynosure, the gleaming source.

She suckles the memories of this forgetful mass,
Telling them where they all came from, and
Of what they still love in their ever-existent childhood.

Lachrymosity evolves along a preformed lining.
The auditors lower their eyes, aglow in their own quiet.
This charisma thing has gotten to them and
Connects them to their private thoughts, ardent and real.

They have fallen in love with her for love of themselves.
When her voice rises into the crying of violins
They know it, adore it, and glisten in gratitude.

 


    
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