All was relatively calm at first.
The couples danced amid
soft yellow light, soothing
Bach music, delightful
ambiance throughout
a newly renovated
forties’ ballroom.
The mood was warm smiles,
contented faces. Love was
was energy, energy was
love. Yet then Sheldon
Greenblatt opened
a side door, and
a swarm of black
and white piglets
stormed in.
Panic ensued.
Piglets squealed
some coupes kneeled
(and not of their volition.)
Long evening dresses swirled
like dervishes, piglets in a-riot
o’er the floor, females fainting
one by one, and good old
Sheldon chasing little
piglets as fast as his
seventies’ frame
would allow.
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