Alex Turner

Alex Turner

By Jax Soon-Legaspi

some dionysian thing

with a shirt melting down, white candle wax,

sticking to the arms and your instrument

held like a shotgun

face hot-sticky from stage lights

bacchanalian flailing here,

you’ve got all the maenads screaming

you’re dragging out

some unforgettable melody

stretching and twisting like the larynx

of every girl that came

he’s running off the path into uncharted territory

once he turned and saw

there were people singing along

what daring escape, what

bold departure, leaving all the vocalists

dazed and confused—

a god hiding

from its prayers