A Festival Organizer’s Poem
You’ve completed your order,
All is confirmed,
You’re coming to Pink Moon,
Your attendance affirmed.
But where do those dollars
You’ve spent even go?
I’m here to explain it,
Listen close and you’ll know.
First there are debts needing settled from past
Pink Moons are expensive, not only a blast.
Next up is promotion so more’ll come down,
Fliers, posters, and ads used to spread the renown.
There are people to pay, and papers to print.
Designers and deposits make a big dint.
There are showcases to throw, and places to be,
Gas is quite costly, nothing is free.
Insurance is covered, permits are got,
Without porta potties or power, we’re sure y’all’d get hot.
Garbage needs hauling, so a dumpster to rent,
The EZ-up blew over, so also a tent…
As day-of-show approaches some staffers need paid.
Food to feed artists will have to be flayed.
Sound and lights have their own bill, with 4 stages it’s high,
By this time the well is getting quite dry.
But then our gates open,
Each vehicle rolls in,
Ticket sales peak,
Family greeted with grins.
Cash in hand handed ‘round,
To each entity owed,
Bands, artists, crew, grounds,
Reap rewards of work sowed.
No corporate sponsors, and no fairy tales,
The cycle continues praying Pink Moon prevails.