Shhh

"Away with the noise of your songs! I will not listen to the music of your harps." Amos 5:23

The slits of my eyes open enough to let the 2 PM light in.

There's a man wrapped in aluminum foil wailing on a bass guitar, dragging an amp behind him and swollen white belly dancers clapping their cymbals over their bed head hairdos. The tiny Japanese women curtsy with grace while the tattooed hoods with crooked Yankee caps beat box and try to conceal their laughter. The maracas chatter rises above the stilt walkers and ABBA's Dancing Queen while the shirtless men in white socks hang from the fire escape, watching with sheer hungover amusement.

Even my makeshift sound machine won't drowned this revelry away.

Either I am severely allergic to stage makeup, manufactured mineral oil smoke, and 14 hour work days or I am what you would call sick as a worn out dog.

If this is the sound of sunshine, I've heard enough.

Did you hear my head hit the brick wall?

**New York City Dance Parade showcasing 40 different dance genres down Broadway and across my front yard."