Karaoke Grief Bomb

by Carolin Messier

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I was laughing
as a pair of my employees
called me onto the stage
to sing with them,
a catchy, latin dance beat
I’d heard 100 times before.
It always made me smile
and move in spite of myself.
The perfect beat
for cleaning the house,
or breaking down the dining room
at the end of a dinner shift.
I read the lyrics from the screen
and stumbled to sing along
waiting to belt out
the syncopated refrain
and live la vida loca.
It felt good
to be a part of the crew again,
at least for the evening.
Then Ricky Martin
kicked me in the gut
as his line was projected on the screen:
“she’ll take away your pain,
like a bullet to your brain, Come on!”
I did not “Come on!”
But ate another taco
to stuff down the natural feelings
that would have killed the party.
There’d been enough killing already.