Walt Whitman, ‘exuberance is beauty’
To see Andrew firecracker in the audience
of a
live Musical Show is a priceless hit
of lightning. He lit ‘Les Mis’ maybe a
dozen times.
Today, we saw posters for a film version
and sit down side-by-side-by-side in
the back row of the multiplex:
between us, a bag chock-full of pop and
crisps
and, off we fall into the grandest sound
and leaning-forward colour.
I always
feel that epic story up from deep; a rising tear
from chest to throat and wetting of my
eyeballs, cheeks
but Andrew goes for lemonade, maltesers,
crisps
and crackles taste and sweetness
not caught, at all, by time concocted space
and tone of
deftly crafted music sound around.
After munching, I return to heart-stop
tension in the pulse
and drum of war and song. Toilet please and so I walk the
scallywag
away as children die in Technicolor.
At last, the credits roll with all our goodies
eaten.
This is Andrew’s moment – standing up, he
leads a rising choral clapped
applause – and smiles – exuberant. We all
join in; several hundred people
led by him. Our car is waiting, dark and
cold, and, singing in the rain,
we march
into the chorus: Hear the people
sing!
and then away upstairs to sleep like heroes
now
and dream of glory then.
