24 Hour The Bald Soprano

9pm
At 8’o’clock sharp,
The Bald Soprano opened.
Twenty-three shows left.


10pm
The doorbell sounded.
A tune filled the dining room.
It was “Three Blind Mice”.


11pm
True fatigue simmers.
Briefly stalled with sandwiches.
Beware the triptophan.


12am
That show was quite smooth
But Keith pondered the question,
“Wow that was just four?!”


1am
Punch to Adam’s face
Oh, sweet self inflicted wound!
Own worst enemy.


2am
All the bars have closed,
Cigarettes in the booth,
A brown mustache falls.


3am
Dearest Delante,
You know you are our sunshine
You are our bouquet

4am
Body getting tired
Neck and shoulders tight, so tight
Muscles atrophy.


5am
Sleep deprivation,
Sinks his teeth into the air.
Still rockin! We don’t care!


6am

“haiku in a snowstorm”


7am
When the doorbell rings
Sometimes there is someone there.
Other times, there’s not.


8am
Laughter has broke free
Like a shot of fresh canned cheese
Aiming for your mouth.


9am
Breakfast was tasty.
The comedy was tasty.
The “Fun Cheez” was not.


10am
Quiet audience
But one man has been sitting
For at least eight shows.


11am
I’m out of haikus
It saddens me a little
To have no more poems.


12pm
Wigs are falling off
A bit of fixing helps them
To get them back onstage.


1pm
Damn good energy.
Toss around a ball of yarn.
Do the roboto.


2pm
We’re still going strong.
Bobbi Block laughs for Adam.
Mary moves sexy.


3pm
Bigger crowd baby!
Awkward silences, big laughs.
Spit-take not so great.


4pm
Fast, silly, and bald.
Krishna Murti Manchester.
Fire Chief molested.


5pm
Sleep will rule again!
Rings around the eyes, glow brightened
Like being on drugs.


6pm
One more show to go.
Now a naked Fire Chief
Sends chills through the crowd.


7pm
To the top, my friends.
The last the same as the first.
Leave it all behind.