Rising star

A young blonde girl
in plain white blouse
and blue jeans worn
over canvas shoes

a guitar electric
a mic so black
backup group
all so young

strident runs
shattered amiss
crashing chords
stumbling about

caressing the mic
with lips thin but red
with moaning sounds sung
that might be words

the audience screams
somehow not in pain
in ecstasy they dance
to the sounds that are played

and watching do I
wish that some how
a remote had I
that could fast forward them

I am told they are great
the very latest thing
the critics all rave
I don’t stand amazed