Before the rhytidectomy
Assuage their vanity with tools of
rhetoric and anything
they pay to hear; sacrifice
the flesh as a halal butcher
hangs carcasses
to a commercial god.
Sonnet for Abe
My love for you continues to this day.
With our photographs and history I stay.
Writing stories of our life together
keeps me brave: Alive, and feeling better.
Bushwick Book Club Seattle watches the Watchmen
One of the marvelous things about the Seattle arts community is its literary heart. Few environments can boast of lit-driven ensembles like Book-It Reparatory Theater and the Bushwick Book Club Seattle. Beginning in 2010, Bushwick members have taken great risk in drawing musical inspiration from written works deeply entrenched in the popular consciousness, if not the personal mythology, of its audience.
Donny’s Big Break
“Why can’t the world be unfair to me? Why do I always get exactly what I deserve?”
Stuck: the Right to Atrophy
Is the pursuit of the right to atrophy a dramatically compelling one? This is the question that continues to occur to me as I reflect on playwright Jessica Hatlo’s Stuck, up now at Washington Ensemble Theatre.
Elephant Song
On evenings filled with rain the elephants
believe my open door leads to a green stretch
of forest and trundle through.
Each concocts a song or howl of her own—
a moan of bassoon, a pitch of piccolos
and even agonies of strings to tell of elephant
tragedies coated in silt.
Walk
He left all his sticks. Which he should regret because they are his life’s work, but he needed his hands free to open and close doors and be ready to ward off Antoinette if necessary, which was not necessary, and his hands are not hands that are adept at juggling. Instead of regretting his sticks, he is happy he left them.
A Dumb Place
In retrospect, agreeing Mary’s suggestion had not been a particularly bright idea. And she now realized the idea was never hers in the first place. In the past three hours Brenda had gone over the sequence of events and was now fully aware of how her young charge had manipulated her into her current predicament.
The Church of Nonexistence
The pamphlet-that-does-not-exist is in my hand! This is the pamphlet of my church: The Church of Nonexistence. We worship the God of Nonexistence.
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