The Death of A Pop Star

My response to prompt #93 by Deb Scott- Deb wanted us to wallow in the depths of our fantasy and make poetry out of the experience. Though she wanted us to begin with free-writing, I must admit, I cheated and went directly to the poem bit. This wasn't the first idea I got, but the only one that clicked.

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23rd September, '09

The death of a pop star
just limelight gone sour;
Or so I thought,
underneath
sheets so blue,
while the media raged
and the fans engaged
in
a semi-fantastical
boohoo.
I slept a normal
sleepy night
dreamt my dreams,
one or two,
and woke up
fresh-faced
and non-teary-eyed
to take
on the world
anew.

I walked the walk and
talked
the talk
since I had not much else to do
there was a vacuum
in the air
everywhere
from all the handkerchiefs blown into.

I resolved
to make not much of it
to try and keep it
an impersonal issue
but little did I know
and little did I think
that 'Billie Jean'
wouldn't
so easily
say adieu.

Sunset came
with a lolling gait
and a face
less orange than blue
it seems
he happened to know the guy
and really cared for him too.
I sheltered under
the indifferent lamp
whose light was never new.
He cared not who stood
he cared not who fell
so today
he shone
with no less ado.

Feet stretched out
my cat
cuddled by my side
my warm
dependable rescue,
I held on to his tail
hoping to float
if the oceans of tears
anymore grew.
I knew when he smiled
his Cheshire cat smile
flicking his pink tongue,
that he was going to
mew;
the sweetest,
lovable-est sound in the world,
and I hugged him tight,
as if on cue.

But Lord of Sanity,
what do I get
but a pop star's voice,
and the
jerking
sliding
dance moves too,
and a steely lecture
for all my disdain
and a few words about his own virtue.

I feel down on my knees,
and cried
and cried
I finally gave the pop star
his due.

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Please do let me know what you think of my attempt at telling tall tales. All comments on the idea and form are very welcome. Thank you.