Jose Padua: Sabotage

Vox Populi

In the middle of the crowd this woman standing
next to me swinging her hips, doing a dance that
looks like a leisurely swim except she’s standing,
keeps saying over and over “Good stuff. Good
stuff. Good stuff” and I know she’s not talking
about the band on the stage a few hundred feet
away from us, because when you’re that far back
from the band without slowly inching closer and
closer, you’re not as interested in seeing the band
up close, or even at all, as you are intent to reach
a certain almost out of the body state of being,
where you’re almost watching yourself make
the most absurd movements which in any other
setting would be what causes hundreds of bewildered,
bemused, or frightened looks from everyone witnessing
these strange motions, but here, I’m the only one
looking at her, and the reason I’ve been standing
next…

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