My city is no longer so overwhelming- though the noise and myriad people do occasionally send me back into my room, with the door locked and the fan on high. At this point, I'm not ready to try an improv class, yet- nor am I prepared to audition for anything. So, not knowing what else to do with myself, just yet, I'm going to start posting some bits and pieces that I am proud to have written.
This first one is one of my absolute favorites. I wrote this after performing as Fraulein Schneider in Cabaret, in school, for one of my creative writing assignments.
a whispered fiction
for tommy
love is a fiction
we whisper in the dark
unquiet of ourselves,
writing in characters
with hardly a breath
wasted on cuing them in;
and likewise writing them out
of ourselves when they fail
to read what we know
was never penned.
assigned and assigning
exit after entrance after exit
there was no surprise
in my mind when I tripped
into love on a sparse stage,
via scripted doom
of separation. what better
than a lover knowing
his lines, his limits,
his place in the scheme
of pre-determined things? what worse
than a slip of paper
tucked into a costumed pocket,
demurely confiding, however in-character,
a tender whisper of fiction
unscripted, unsolicited,
undeniably more than ever I
would be scripted to read?
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