Among thousands of screaming fans, Glitter flew only from a few hands during the "Moondust will cover you" line In "Hallo Spaceboy." I was of three minds Like three of Bowie's personas... Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane, and The Thin White Duke. My stars of today Are belittled by the talents Of the Chameleon Of Rock. Bowie and his microphone are one. Bowie and his microphone and his alto sax Are one. I do not know which to prefer; A night watching, Entranced, A video of a Bowie concert Or a movie starring him; Blasting the electricity of "Earthling" Or the smooth flow of "Black Tie White Noise." As the melody swelled from the guitar strings, A million flickering lighters twinkled and swayed In the stadium As a smooth, accented voice Floated out Over the Now Hushed fans. O Chameleon Of Rock, Why have you, in recent years, Not transformed a persona again? Do you not see how fans Adore that of you? I know the struggle to procure tickets And the pushing, blaring crowds at concerts, But I know too The adrenaline rush that comes of seeing Your one true idol Live on stage.... in person. When the Bowie concert must end, It marks the finish of a Once In a lifetime experience. At the finale Of an electric, surging Bowie song. Even the devoted fan of classical music would cry out sharply. He was driven across the country In his big, black limo. Once a fear pierced him That he had left his powered milk and cigarettes On the bedside table In the previous hotel room. The androgynous rockstar's hands sweaty. He must just have finished a two-and-a-half hour concert. As the foreign city bustled around him; The stock market climbing; The exhausted rockstar was lulled to sleep By the buzz of telephone wires; His haggard form slumping In one of the hotel beds That would be near home... At least for the next few years.
This poem is inspired by Wallace Steven's Thirteen Ways of Looking At a Blackbird.
The space alien, The Earthling, The band of Spiders and lightning. The Thin White Duke. Never repeating, Always changing, And never, ever settling. Eyes of azure and hazel Forever shining with new thought. Long slender fingers Always on the keys of the saxaphone, Strings of the guitar, Or wrapped primarily around the microphone. Voice of melodic melody Or voice of sharp glass Surviving through the ages. Thrity-six years of triumph Doesn't stand for nothing. Ground control to Major Tom: Ziggy lives on, The Thin White Duke lives on, The Earthling lives on. From the King Bees to the lightning's strike, To the Labyrinth Of all these characters created, The legend of it all Has given more than we will ever know.