The sparkling woman dances with the man,
flask in his pocket;
she closes her eyes and smiles frantically to the music.
At the microphone, Annie sings the “Girl from Ipanema”
and then the “Waters of March.”
The bar is a belly in turmoil,
inhabiting the dragons,
Huff and Puff.
Outside. There is no outside.
The bird with the red throat
trills from the painting on the wall.
The guitarist and Annie duet themselves
to the clatter chatter.
The woman who sparkles knows where this is headed.