Distortions of Faith

The performance was scheduled for Pentecost.
They erected a stage in the square.
The security scanned as militia men
Training guns off the top of the stairs.

It was billed as The Gift To The People
A distraction from weeks of unrest.
There were screen printed trinkets in stalls on the street.
Spray painted sheets making threats.

The Escalades rolled up the promenade without any passengers
At dawn every day.
A deliberate display.

Her entourage entered the lobby and checked in discreetly.
The pills made their play.
She slept really late and she dreamt in distortions of faith.

The day of the show there were omens.
A black fingernail in her bed.
The opening number abandoned in progress.
Begonias backstage were all dead.

It was hard to determine what set off the skirmish.
The barriers buckled and broke.
The tear gas it hissed out from the canisters.
The audience ghostly in smoke.

They shut down the stage
And the motorcade rolled to the airport.
Her bandleader wept when they boarded the jet.

The pilot said prayers right there in front of the instruments.
Said it's not what it seems.
And nobody laughed when
The gunner said living the dream.

Her husband made calls from the cockpit.
They issued a statement.
The official position
Is nothing has changed.

The liftoff was routine ascension.
The seatbelts were all buckled up.
The medic came back and sat down beside her.
Three caps in a small paper cup.

He said at least we got paid.
She slumped down in her seat
And she dreamt in distortions of faith.