Diane was forever boasting about her 'excellent pipes';
'I have excellent pipes!' she would say, thumping her breastbone,
shutting down banter like a circuit breaker.
For years, her colleagues thought she meant
that she had good bladder control, or well-maintained
plumbing, till karaoke one Christmas party -
'The thing about Stars in Your Eyes,' she breathed
into the mic, 'is they burn your retinas out.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrgggghhhhhhhh!
Aaaarrrrgggghhhh christ my eyes! My eyes!'
Clawing at her fake lashes,
her tights laddering, the lights coming up,
hesitant applause, curtain.
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