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Who knows who among us is waiting to be heard?

Lurking in the wings may be somebody else.

Not the recognized performer out in front

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with his lines all written for him scene by scene, and every inflection, gesture, stance rehearsed to promote (to a last nuance) the latest

and most glitteringly chic of hits.

But somebody else:

not listed at all.

who urgently, inchoately from where he's hid may be trying

in a muffled voice to cry

``But this isn't it!''

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This isn't what in the least is meant!''

If he were somehow

to get himself out: if he were to bolt on to the lighted stage and blurt aloud

whatever it is -

O mercy upon us!

How a whole house (from gallery to stalls) might be shaken - shaken! - as if by a quake.

And this

au courant

audience so classily in the know

to what Awesome News

suddenly be exposed?

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