Late Saturday Night TV

By Clarence Major

In the movie the lights are dim. The room is throbbing

with tension. The ceiling is gold–plated, the doors,

blood red, the walls, green. The ladies are dressed

in silk and satin, and some have ostrich feathers in their hats.

The men are sweating in their suits. Behind the bar,

the bartender pours liquor nervously into small glasses.

A war has just ended, and another is starting.

A musician on stage is blowing a saxophone.

Waiters walk stiffly, carrying trays around the room,

serving drinks. Everybody is on edge.