Wednesday, November 12, 2008

The Esteemed Visitor

We walked onto the stage
giving lines, taking notes
from the director, had her
in a class last fall,
my first semester,
director Heather,

now we're simply students
doing theater, a small
production based on
a draft by just another
student, from a class
on writing plays

today's rehearsal,
rehearse the scene,
where Superman
gets the key to the city

from a mayor, our very
mayor, with her fake
blonde hair, it looks
laughingly pretty and
I could really care
about her, hair

I ride in on a pantomime horse
with a fake mustache, to give
my opening lines, something of
a soliloquy, I look up and say,

what about the man from the sea?
they call him Aquaman, I think
he saved the fishes, and lived his
life in a shell, sure he might
not deserve a key, but maybe
he would like one

he could be a hero for a day
with his water wrinkled face
on the front page of every
single paper that cares

about people who get keys
to the city, whatever city
is giving keys to these people

there's a light from the
side, maybe from those
windows, it hits my eyes
so I look down and see
it's also on the floor,

it seems to mock us,
and the mayor begins to
laugh out of character
as the director, newly
careful Heather, holds back
on her inclination to be,
herself, which is to say,

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