June 15, 2002 at 4:15 p.m.; Champign-Urbana, Illinois; Cloudy, Looks Like Rain

2007-05-19T10:01:00.002-07:00

Hundreds of black balloons squiggle like tadpoles
Across the lightning-rich sky
--Or sperm.
What have you.
The woman in the white peasant blouse
(With a stylized Aztec jaguar across the back),
And the man with the gold motorbike
That talks when he revs it up
Change seats to watch them struggle to penetrate
The sun-egg shrouded in clouds,
Who, for her part, content in swirling mists
--Lemony sweet like sherbet--
Wonders at this new celestial event,
One of many
Tipped off by recent football celebrations.

Love Monologue #1

2007-05-19T10:01:00.001-07:00

Welcome friends, ladies, gentlemen.

In just a few moments when there is silence in the room

When all we can hear is our breath

Mingling in this shared space

An actor will take the stage

And after a moment to compose himself

He will perform for you a heart-wrenching play.

Oh! it is a story of love!

Yes, love

But also loss

Sorrow.

No, this is no honey drenched sap festival

Full of flowers.

This play is about regrets,

A man whose very form sinks from the weight of them.

It is about his heart now withering from want

Of a girl now gone.

It is about a crystallized memory of a pure moment

Which could never stay

Which should never have passed.

The play will express such elegant pain

That many of you will be moved to pity the man

To feel his melancholy as your own

To wonder aloud, perhaps, whether you can,

Yourself

Still love.

But do, please, understand that

No matter how convincing his affectation

No matter how wet or heated the tears streaming down his face

This man is only acting.

This is only a work of theater.

Everything we tell you here is untrue.

Nothing here is real.

Now the actor takes the stage

Or the Master of Ceremonies, still on stage tramsmutes into the actor

And

After a brief meditation, a breath for focus he

Wordless

Pulls from his breast a wilting white rose

Lifts it up to catch the light

He is thinking of a night many years gone

Of a single moment caught, frozen as in amber

In his mind of the city glowing on the hillside

In the distance the first light cascading across the eastern sky

Of the mists rising from the field and the cows

And their lips

His and the girl now gone

Just brushing

Hesitating

Wondering if at last this is home

With a shift in deportment

A shudder

Softly closed eyes tightened lips

The actor conveys the love’s end

The waves of numbness

The hours spent alone in his apartment

Dark

Sleepless

Wondering simply “Why”

He takes one last look at the rose

Then lets it sink to the floor

His face conveys a terrible longing

He begs the audience to understand

He has confessed

He sinks into a chair and sighs heavily

Burdened

Before barely speaking this one word

Curtain.

Poems

June 15, 2002 at 4:15 p.m.; Champign-Urbana, Illinois; Cloudy, Looks Like Rain

Love Monologue #1

Now the actor takes the stage