Caliente

The unfortunate souls that live in the ruins of a broken and corrupted society need to express themselves. Their bodies gleam under the artificial light as they dance to an impressive beat. Their hearts, as well, beat. Faster and faster it beats and does not stop until their lives are finally pulverized by the only institution that can (but never will) save them. Their legs move with much strain in precise practice, their arms flail with a kind of unison, their heads bob, their midsection rolls and flows. The beat thickens and climaxes as does the unfortunate soul’s bodies. The lights flicker and change color, exposing the vulnerable people. Because of the light, these people are humiliated. Degradation is something they live with; something they need in order to survive. The star of the moment is anything but proud or impressive, he is defeated. He saunters towards the center of the stage and belts out the final stanzas of the song all the while keeping in unison with his backup dancers. His brown hair albeit short was matted with sweat, his tanned face was sullied by make-up and glitter, his fit body masked with an old fashion, sequined, absolutely hideous costume.