Friday 28 September 2007
Blog: good poets you may not have heard of.
Tattoo
The light is like a spider
It crawls over the water.
It cralws over the edges of the snow.
It crawls under your eyelids
And spreads its webs there –
Its two webs.
The webs of your eyes
Are fastened
To the flesh and bones of you
As to rafters or grass.
There are filaments of your eyes
On the surface of the water
And in the edges of the snow.
- Wallace Stevens
Voyages I
Above the fresh ruffles of the surf
Bright striped urchins flay each other with sand.
They have contrived a conquest for shell shucks,
And their fingers crumble fragments of baked weed
Gaily digging and scattering.
And in answer to their treble interjections
The sun beats lightning on the waves,
The waves fold thunder on the sand;
And could they hear me I would tell them:
O brilliant kids, frisk with your dog,
Fondle your shells and sticks, bleached
By time and the elements; but there is a line
You must not cross nor ever trust beyond it
Spry cordage of your bodies to caresses
Too lichen-faithful from too wide a breast.
The bottom of the sea is cruel.
- Hart Crane
I'm Nobody Who Are You?
I’m nobody. Who are you?
Are you nobody too?
Then there’s a pair of us.
Don’t tell-they’d banish us, you know.
How dreary to be somebody
How public – like a frog –
To tell your name the livelong June
To an admiring bog.
- Emily Dickinson
O Me! O Life!
O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless--of cities fill'd with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light--of the objects mean--of the struggle ever renew'd;
Of the poor results of all--of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest--with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring--What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.
That you are here--that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.
- Walt Whitman
Tuesday 25 September 2007
Poem: Multiples of Leopold I
Anything beautiful
Is surreal
Except this sentence
And me when I breathe
Loud and obnoxious
In hopes someone will look my way
Say something strange
Like, oh how unexpected
A man who means something
Out of context.
I sing songs and you read books,
And this is the line that links us
If it says anything good.
Drafts of papers reproducing
Industry news and who’s who’s
Are portals Leopold chose to take
Years before we were watching.
He dove like a butterfly
With wet wings; tectonic shifts
Into oblivion and beyond
Lay an off chance Leopold would grow up,
His pleasures co-existing
But never awakening him.
But one life wasn’t enough,
Leo tried a couple at once,
No time for lying in flowerbeds
All day starting fires.
So Leopold was faced with a grave decision:
How best to exterminate someone dear to him.
He rolled the balls of his feet
On his stone lion’s forehead
And attempted metaphysical suicide.
I sing songs and you read books,
And that’s all there was between us.
Is surreal
Except this sentence
And me when I breathe
Loud and obnoxious
In hopes someone will look my way
Say something strange
Like, oh how unexpected
A man who means something
Out of context.
I sing songs and you read books,
And this is the line that links us
If it says anything good.
Drafts of papers reproducing
Industry news and who’s who’s
Are portals Leopold chose to take
Years before we were watching.
He dove like a butterfly
With wet wings; tectonic shifts
Into oblivion and beyond
Lay an off chance Leopold would grow up,
His pleasures co-existing
But never awakening him.
But one life wasn’t enough,
Leo tried a couple at once,
No time for lying in flowerbeds
All day starting fires.
So Leopold was faced with a grave decision:
How best to exterminate someone dear to him.
He rolled the balls of his feet
On his stone lion’s forehead
And attempted metaphysical suicide.
I sing songs and you read books,
And that’s all there was between us.
Friday 21 September 2007
Play: Being There (12m)
CHARACTERS
MOTHER
DAUGHTER
Insolent, sullen.
FATHER
seems to have no idea the kind of family he’s in.
MAN 1
does the talking.
MAN 2
has the power.
(A chair and small table downstage, where FATHER sits in the darkness, with a small book of French philosophy called “Being There.” )
(MOTHER enters far up stage, looking for her front-door key, and two PIANO MOVERS in work clothes freeze, carrying a body in a bag or a sheet.)
MAN 1
Hi.
MOTHER
(puts her hands on hips)
Hello… Is that…
MAN 1
Is this what you wanted taken?
MOTHER
I don’t know, who did you speak to?
(MEN lay the body down. MAN 1 looks at MAN 2, who gestures for MAN 1 to show her their log book. MAN 1 shows her the book )
MOTHER
Its blank.
MAN 1
Huh.
(flips through the book. Shrugs, looks anxiously at MAN 2)
I just started a new one. The other one’s at home.
MOTHER
What a surprise.
(sighs)
Did either of you take the call?
(MAN 1 looks at MAN 2, who shakes his head ‘no.’)
MAN 1
No.
(MOTHER sighs, goes to the body)
MOTHER
May I?
(MAN 1 looks at MAN 2, who shrugs. MOTHER sees MAN 2’s answer and looks in the bag/under the sheet. MAN 2 watches her with great interest)
MOTHER
(a bit lost)
I’m sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding.
MAN 2
(sighs, walks slowly over to her, referring to the body)
Its not yours?
MOTHER
(eyes him)
You shouldn’t have been called.
MAN 2
We got a call for something to be moved, we get here and this was on your front porch… Ready to be moved… What did we misunderstand?
MOTHER
I apologise, its not your fault, you just shouldn’t have been called.
(MAN 2 glares at her for a long time.)
MAN 2
Well, we’re sorry to have troubled you…
(MAN 2 ushers MAN 1 off stage right, and just before he goes, he turns and says, full of import)
And your friend there.
MOTHER
(glares after him, looks down at the body)
Dear dear dear…
(dusts her hands off, walks downstage where the lights come up
On FATHER, sitting in a hard-backed chair, squinting closely at a book, straining his brain more than his eyes.)
MOTHER
(throws her purse down with a clatter on the table, knocking FATHER’s book away, and startling the hell out of him)
I’m just about sick of cleaning up after that girl.
FATHER
What?
MOTHER
Well, she can’t go around killing everyone she disagrees with.
FATHER
Yes.
MOTHER
Apart from anything else, its just bad manners.
FATHER
Yes.
MOTHER
I’ll try and have a word with her.
FATHER
Yes.
MOTHER
(not listening to him)
Have I been a bad mother to her?
FATHER
(guesses, guesses wrongly)
Yes?
MOTHER
(not listening to him)
I just don’t understand where she gets it from.
FATHER
Yes.
MOTHER
Maybe its those soaps she watches… They’re probably filled with all kinds of things children shouldn’t be exposed to… All you’d have to do is watch one to find out… But would it be worth it?
FATHER
Yes.
MOTHER
I just can’t relate to her anymore, would you mind if I had her disowned…
FATHER
Whatever you think.
(pause)
Should I still call for a piano teacher?
MOTHER
(pause)
They cancel each other out. Its got to be one or the other.
(DAUGHTER bustles in from uni, throws books on table. FATHER and MOTHER stare at her, she’s oblivious.)
DAUGHTER
Where’s dinner, I’m starving…
MOTHER
(stares at her)
There’s no dinner.
DAUGHTER
Why?
(pause. They glare at DAUGHTER. DAUGHTER smirks)
Who died?
MOTHER
Your piano teacher.
DAUGHTER
(curious)
Oh yeah? How?
MOTHER
On my front lawn.
DAUGHTER
That’s not good.
MOTHER
Are you going to apologise?
DAUGHTER
Why should I?
MOTHER
Can I tell you a story?
DAUGHTER
Bit busy at the moment.
MOTHER
Today I had to eulogise
(she takes her overshirt/jumper off, revealing reverend’s collar)
old Smith and some kid, neither of whom I knew a thing about, and Mrs Smith wanted me to say what a wonderful card player her husband was, and the smaller one’s parents wanted me to say oh boo-hoo I’m really sad and boo-hoo it couldn’t have happened to a nicer kid… How the hell would I know? I don’t know any of these people, and they always make me say things when they die… I wouldn’t mind going if they didn’t always insist on me making a speech…
DAUGHTER
Can I go to my room?
MOTHER
(forceful)
No.
DAUGHTER
It would make me happy.
MOTHER
(Comes around behind DAUGHTER, poised to attack)
Oh, well that’s my life’s mission, isn’t it? That’s all I ever think about… I go to work, talk about dead people I don’t know, raise money to pay for your piano lessons … I hope you enjoyed them.
DAUGHTER
They were okay.
MOTHER
(applies pincer fingers to her shoulder, half-heartedly)
Is this okay?
(pause. threatening)
Stop saying “okay”, okay?
DAUGHTER
Okay!
(MOTHER lets go, sheathes her pincer in her armpit and begins to pace around her daughter)
DAUGHTER
God, mum, I just had this fixed.
MOTHER
Well, I’m terribly sorry to inconvenience you, I know how much trouble it is for you to get to the chiropractor, which you pay for by hosting your own funerals, I’m sure…
FATHER
(clears his throat. MOTHER glares at him.)
What was that?
MOTHER
What?
FATHER
In your holster.
MOTHER
(takes out her pincer fingers again. Flattered by his curiosity)
Oh, nothing.
FATHER
No, go on.
MOTHER
(a bit annoyed at the interruption)
Its just my pincer.
FATHER
Martial arts?
MOTHER
No, I made it up.
FATHER
Its really nice.
DAUGHTER
You said you wouldn’t use that stuff on me.
MOTHER
You said you’d start listening to your mother:
(turning her around)
Listen to me! You really upset me this afternoon. I don’t like surprises, and a piano teacher in a bag is not something…
(pause. DAUGHTER’s reaction is inscrutable)
I mean, How do you prepare for that? You’ve put me in situations before where I’ve had to pretend you were normal to keep the men from taking you away, but this…
(pause)
That golf bag was a present from your father…
(almost weeping)
It was our anniversary.
FATHER
(matter of factly)
We went hunting at the zoo.
DAUGHTER
So they found her in your bag?
(pause)
Huh.
(MOTHER looks suspiciously at DAUGHTER)
MOTHER
Do you hear how she spoke to me?
FATHER
Mm.
MOTHER
Its almost as if she blames me for her mistakes. Like I would waste the money we paid for a year’s tuition in advance!
(snaps)
I didn’t teach you those skills so you’d abuse them.
(pause, slowly, mournfully)
They were supposed to be saved for special occasions.
FATHER
Like anniversaries.
MOTHER
(calmly)
This time I’m putting my foot down. If you were grown-up enough to kill her, you should be grown-up enough to dispose of her body.
DAUGHTER
(humouring her)
Yes mum…
MOTHER
Its not that I mind you doing it. It’s your record they’ll go on, if you get caught. I didn’t mind it when you killed Uncle Archie…
(explaining it)
He smelt like eggplant. But if you make a mess, you clean it up. That’s the only rule we have… And you disobeyed it.
(comes towards her)
Your punishment shall be…
DAUGHTER
Hey… No more pincer.
MOTHER
Oh, I think your problems are too deep for that. You’ll get what you gave. Now, next time I, on a whim, indulge my baser instincts, you’ll clean it up. How do you like that?
(pause)
You won’t know when it’ll come… No matter how inconvenient it is for you... It might even be someone in this room… Depending on how nice you all are to me…
FATHER
(awkward pause. He feels like he should say something)
Were you just talking about me?
MOTHER
(snaps)
Glen!
DAUGHTER
Well…
(clapping her hands together)
Entertaining as always, but now I must away to my room, for I have some homework due!
MOTHER
(menacing)
Stay where you are.
FATHER
(awkward pause. FATHER feels he should fill it)
Should I make a note of that?
MOTHER
(holds up a single finger to silence him. FATHER silences his own lips with his own finger and looks down at his lap)
I’ve endured enough of your… tirades… I’m suffered… Oh, how I’ve suffered…
FATHER
I can second that, should I put that I second it?
MOTHER
But do you show me mercy? Will this torment ever cease?
DAUGHTER
You tell me, its in your head.
MOTHER
There you go again with your university degree, using your… Fancy brain, which I paid for, and again you choose to use it for wickedness…
DAUGHTER
(not too worried yet)
Seriously, I’ve got something due tomorrow.
(MOTHER her gesticulating arm drops, her shoulders slump, and she cries. Quietly.)
(now DAUGHTER’s worried. sighs)
Oh, not this.
MOTHER
(throws back her head and lets out a histrionic cry)
Oh ye gods! What have I done to deserve such a wicked child…
DAUGHTER
(frowning at MOTHER, then gets interested in fingernails, examines them for dirt… very important to undercut MOTHER’s display)
I ate garlic and slept upside down for a month, and still you would not give me a boy… A boy, my kingdom for a boy…
FATHER
(above his book, to audience)
The rational sex…
(DAUGHTER glares at him. He looks down at his book)
DAUGHTER
There you go, make a nice fuss… You’ll feel better.
MOTHER
I’ve always given so much… Ye gods, when will it be enough!
DAUGHTER
(lies MOTHER down)
Like a drink with your fuss?
MOTHER
Huh?
DAUGHTER
Yes… A nice drink. Of alcohol.
(pulls out a water bottle)
Like this one here.
(FATHER looks over, frowns)
DAUGHTER
You’ve had a big day, and this is what people do after big days, they drink them away.
MOTHER
Yes… It was quite big.
DAUGHTER
I know…
MOTHER
(Looks deep into the drink, then up at her, a bit suspicious)
I didn’t think we had any…
DAUGHTER
Its from my room.
MOTHER
(sits up, glares at her)
Young lady…
DAUGHTER
If I kept it down here it’d be gone in one…
(pause. Taking the piss)
Morning…
MOTHER
(indignant)
I suppose that’s my fault, too.
DAUGHTER
Its not like we force you to drink…
(MOTHER looks suspiciously at the drink)
DAUGHTER
Except this one time…
MOTHER
You’re a good daughter…
DAUGHTER
(pause. MOTHER thinks it’s a tender moment between them. DAUGHTER grabs the glass and brings it to her mother’s mouth)
Drink your drink.
MOTHER
(when she’s had enough, hurls the glass, which is actually plastic, off-stage)
Tastes salty. Like my tears.
(starts her off again)
DAUGHTER
Oh, shut up… Those tears…
(pats her head)
There… There…
(MOTHER becoming more drowsy, looks around for a pillow, sees Father’s coat, whips it out from behind him, FATHER has a delayed reaction. While DAUGHTER folds it into a pillow, FATHER feels around behind his back.)
There y’are.
(MOTHER makes happily sleeping noises)
Just think happy thoughts.
(MOTHER moans restlessly)
Like those two people you buried today.
(MOTHER smiles and moans happily in her sleep)
And the one you killed.
(MOTHER nods, in her sleep)
Well, that was easy. Dad, have you seen the… tape?
FATHER
(mystified)
What tape?
DAUGHTER
You know.
FATHER
We don’t have any tape…
DAUGHTER
The tape. Your favourite kind. I know you’re just playing dumb.
FATHER
If you’re going to be like that…
DAUGHTER
Okay, okay, I’m sorry… You know, the packing tape she’s so fond of.
FATHER
(frowns for a long pause, as if this isn’t true, then he remembers)
Oh yeah… Its…
(lifs up his legs, looks under his feet, peers into his top pocket, pulls out his trouser pockets, spilling coins all over the place)
Oops…
(grinning like an idiot, he kneels to scoop it all up)
Change… Fell…
(laughs nervously)
DAUGHTER
Dad, would you hurry up.
FATHER
Sure.
(Finds the tape, gives it to her)
Ah, here it is.
(Settles back to his philosophy, which he strains to concentrate on)
DAUGHTER
Now…
(Back to audience… kneels, hides her work, ties MOTHER’s hands behind her back)
Can I borrow your knife?
(FATHER hands her a large knife. FATHER does not seem worried. DAUGHTER pretends to be doing a delicate operation. The actor applies a red dot to end of MOTHER’s nose, some on her ear, and two lines between her eyes.)
Thanks.
(admires it)
Huh.
(hands it back to him)
FATHER
I like to think it can cut through bone, but I’ve always been too shy to try it.
DAUGHTER
It does cartlidge.
FATHER
Oh, well that’s something.
(PAUSE. DAUGHTER gets her bag, picks up a few things)
(like she’s going away for the summer)
Going so soon?
DAUGHTER
I have to.
FATHER
Well…
(pause)
Be safe.
DAUGHTER
(frowns, confused, exits)
(The calm before the storm. FATHER reads his paper, frowns a little, in the silence of the quiet stage, gets an itchy nose, moans a little about it, then is seriously shocked when)
MOTHER
(Her hands are tied. She looks all over here for missing body parts, twitches her nose. It feels strange. She assumes she’s been butchered, which she has. She groans in frustration… A hollow woofing kind of sound)
My ear. Where’s my ear gone?
FATHER
(not looking up from his paper)
Where did you last see it?
MOTHER
(pause)
In the mirror this morning.
FATHER
Well, that’s where it’ll be.
(MOTHER gets up, exits. Off-stage, she screams. Rushes back in)
MOTHER
Have you seen this? Look what that daughter of yours has done to me.
FATHER
(not looking up)
You look fine.
MOTHER
Excuse me.
(goes to slap him, finds her hands are tied… )
What now…
(Tries to look at how they’re tied, goes around in a little circle like a dog chasing its tail. Groans in frustration when she can’t slap him.)
She’s taken a bit off my nose… And put it between my eyes… Can’t you see the difference?
FATHER
(stares at her, squints)
Oh yeah…
(MOTHER’s head sinks)
Come here…
(holds her by the waist, brandishes his knife)
MOTHER
(touches the end of the knife)
There’s blood on it…
FATHER
Oh yeah…
(shrugs)
Turn around.
(he cuts the tape, swivels her to face him)
(looking closer at her new face)
Actually, I hate to say it, but…
MOTHER
(tries to stop him, but its too late)
Don’t you…
FATHER
I think she’s done you a favour.
MOTHER
This is my face, no-one’s allowed to work on it unless I’m paying them… Why do you always side with her… Is it because I’m… old?
(she begins to boo-hoo loudly, only breaking boo-hooing to articulate her following lines)
FATHER
There there…
(He stands up to embrace her, she falls into his arms.)
MOTHER
I hate her.
FATHER
I know you do.
MOTHER
I’m going to…
(makes lazy stabbing motion with both hands, then waves it away)
FATHER
(in response to her mime)
Its only fair.
MOTHER
And then I’ll…
(she ties a big bow in the air and pulls it upwards to make a noose then clasps her hands together and pumps them)
FATHER
(in response to her mime)
No-one would think badly of you.
MOTHER
(she’s just sniffling now, and lying on his chest, plays with his shirt)
Can I have a new daughter?
FATHER
We’ll send off the application in the morning.
MOTHER
I’ve still got you!
(They smile at each other)
Unless you piss me off…
(Pincers him in love handles and he makes a noise half way between a laugh and a scream)
(NOTE: his unexpected noise punctuates the end of the play, and co-incides with lights off)
CURTAIN
END OF PLAY
MOTHER
DAUGHTER
Insolent, sullen.
FATHER
seems to have no idea the kind of family he’s in.
MAN 1
does the talking.
MAN 2
has the power.
(A chair and small table downstage, where FATHER sits in the darkness, with a small book of French philosophy called “Being There.” )
(MOTHER enters far up stage, looking for her front-door key, and two PIANO MOVERS in work clothes freeze, carrying a body in a bag or a sheet.)
MAN 1
Hi.
MOTHER
(puts her hands on hips)
Hello… Is that…
MAN 1
Is this what you wanted taken?
MOTHER
I don’t know, who did you speak to?
(MEN lay the body down. MAN 1 looks at MAN 2, who gestures for MAN 1 to show her their log book. MAN 1 shows her the book )
MOTHER
Its blank.
MAN 1
Huh.
(flips through the book. Shrugs, looks anxiously at MAN 2)
I just started a new one. The other one’s at home.
MOTHER
What a surprise.
(sighs)
Did either of you take the call?
(MAN 1 looks at MAN 2, who shakes his head ‘no.’)
MAN 1
No.
(MOTHER sighs, goes to the body)
MOTHER
May I?
(MAN 1 looks at MAN 2, who shrugs. MOTHER sees MAN 2’s answer and looks in the bag/under the sheet. MAN 2 watches her with great interest)
MOTHER
(a bit lost)
I’m sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding.
MAN 2
(sighs, walks slowly over to her, referring to the body)
Its not yours?
MOTHER
(eyes him)
You shouldn’t have been called.
MAN 2
We got a call for something to be moved, we get here and this was on your front porch… Ready to be moved… What did we misunderstand?
MOTHER
I apologise, its not your fault, you just shouldn’t have been called.
(MAN 2 glares at her for a long time.)
MAN 2
Well, we’re sorry to have troubled you…
(MAN 2 ushers MAN 1 off stage right, and just before he goes, he turns and says, full of import)
And your friend there.
MOTHER
(glares after him, looks down at the body)
Dear dear dear…
(dusts her hands off, walks downstage where the lights come up
On FATHER, sitting in a hard-backed chair, squinting closely at a book, straining his brain more than his eyes.)
MOTHER
(throws her purse down with a clatter on the table, knocking FATHER’s book away, and startling the hell out of him)
I’m just about sick of cleaning up after that girl.
FATHER
What?
MOTHER
Well, she can’t go around killing everyone she disagrees with.
FATHER
Yes.
MOTHER
Apart from anything else, its just bad manners.
FATHER
Yes.
MOTHER
I’ll try and have a word with her.
FATHER
Yes.
MOTHER
(not listening to him)
Have I been a bad mother to her?
FATHER
(guesses, guesses wrongly)
Yes?
MOTHER
(not listening to him)
I just don’t understand where she gets it from.
FATHER
Yes.
MOTHER
Maybe its those soaps she watches… They’re probably filled with all kinds of things children shouldn’t be exposed to… All you’d have to do is watch one to find out… But would it be worth it?
FATHER
Yes.
MOTHER
I just can’t relate to her anymore, would you mind if I had her disowned…
FATHER
Whatever you think.
(pause)
Should I still call for a piano teacher?
MOTHER
(pause)
They cancel each other out. Its got to be one or the other.
(DAUGHTER bustles in from uni, throws books on table. FATHER and MOTHER stare at her, she’s oblivious.)
DAUGHTER
Where’s dinner, I’m starving…
MOTHER
(stares at her)
There’s no dinner.
DAUGHTER
Why?
(pause. They glare at DAUGHTER. DAUGHTER smirks)
Who died?
MOTHER
Your piano teacher.
DAUGHTER
(curious)
Oh yeah? How?
MOTHER
On my front lawn.
DAUGHTER
That’s not good.
MOTHER
Are you going to apologise?
DAUGHTER
Why should I?
MOTHER
Can I tell you a story?
DAUGHTER
Bit busy at the moment.
MOTHER
Today I had to eulogise
(she takes her overshirt/jumper off, revealing reverend’s collar)
old Smith and some kid, neither of whom I knew a thing about, and Mrs Smith wanted me to say what a wonderful card player her husband was, and the smaller one’s parents wanted me to say oh boo-hoo I’m really sad and boo-hoo it couldn’t have happened to a nicer kid… How the hell would I know? I don’t know any of these people, and they always make me say things when they die… I wouldn’t mind going if they didn’t always insist on me making a speech…
DAUGHTER
Can I go to my room?
MOTHER
(forceful)
No.
DAUGHTER
It would make me happy.
MOTHER
(Comes around behind DAUGHTER, poised to attack)
Oh, well that’s my life’s mission, isn’t it? That’s all I ever think about… I go to work, talk about dead people I don’t know, raise money to pay for your piano lessons … I hope you enjoyed them.
DAUGHTER
They were okay.
MOTHER
(applies pincer fingers to her shoulder, half-heartedly)
Is this okay?
(pause. threatening)
Stop saying “okay”, okay?
DAUGHTER
Okay!
(MOTHER lets go, sheathes her pincer in her armpit and begins to pace around her daughter)
DAUGHTER
God, mum, I just had this fixed.
MOTHER
Well, I’m terribly sorry to inconvenience you, I know how much trouble it is for you to get to the chiropractor, which you pay for by hosting your own funerals, I’m sure…
FATHER
(clears his throat. MOTHER glares at him.)
What was that?
MOTHER
What?
FATHER
In your holster.
MOTHER
(takes out her pincer fingers again. Flattered by his curiosity)
Oh, nothing.
FATHER
No, go on.
MOTHER
(a bit annoyed at the interruption)
Its just my pincer.
FATHER
Martial arts?
MOTHER
No, I made it up.
FATHER
Its really nice.
DAUGHTER
You said you wouldn’t use that stuff on me.
MOTHER
You said you’d start listening to your mother:
(turning her around)
Listen to me! You really upset me this afternoon. I don’t like surprises, and a piano teacher in a bag is not something…
(pause. DAUGHTER’s reaction is inscrutable)
I mean, How do you prepare for that? You’ve put me in situations before where I’ve had to pretend you were normal to keep the men from taking you away, but this…
(pause)
That golf bag was a present from your father…
(almost weeping)
It was our anniversary.
FATHER
(matter of factly)
We went hunting at the zoo.
DAUGHTER
So they found her in your bag?
(pause)
Huh.
(MOTHER looks suspiciously at DAUGHTER)
MOTHER
Do you hear how she spoke to me?
FATHER
Mm.
MOTHER
Its almost as if she blames me for her mistakes. Like I would waste the money we paid for a year’s tuition in advance!
(snaps)
I didn’t teach you those skills so you’d abuse them.
(pause, slowly, mournfully)
They were supposed to be saved for special occasions.
FATHER
Like anniversaries.
MOTHER
(calmly)
This time I’m putting my foot down. If you were grown-up enough to kill her, you should be grown-up enough to dispose of her body.
DAUGHTER
(humouring her)
Yes mum…
MOTHER
Its not that I mind you doing it. It’s your record they’ll go on, if you get caught. I didn’t mind it when you killed Uncle Archie…
(explaining it)
He smelt like eggplant. But if you make a mess, you clean it up. That’s the only rule we have… And you disobeyed it.
(comes towards her)
Your punishment shall be…
DAUGHTER
Hey… No more pincer.
MOTHER
Oh, I think your problems are too deep for that. You’ll get what you gave. Now, next time I, on a whim, indulge my baser instincts, you’ll clean it up. How do you like that?
(pause)
You won’t know when it’ll come… No matter how inconvenient it is for you... It might even be someone in this room… Depending on how nice you all are to me…
FATHER
(awkward pause. He feels like he should say something)
Were you just talking about me?
MOTHER
(snaps)
Glen!
DAUGHTER
Well…
(clapping her hands together)
Entertaining as always, but now I must away to my room, for I have some homework due!
MOTHER
(menacing)
Stay where you are.
FATHER
(awkward pause. FATHER feels he should fill it)
Should I make a note of that?
MOTHER
(holds up a single finger to silence him. FATHER silences his own lips with his own finger and looks down at his lap)
I’ve endured enough of your… tirades… I’m suffered… Oh, how I’ve suffered…
FATHER
I can second that, should I put that I second it?
MOTHER
But do you show me mercy? Will this torment ever cease?
DAUGHTER
You tell me, its in your head.
MOTHER
There you go again with your university degree, using your… Fancy brain, which I paid for, and again you choose to use it for wickedness…
DAUGHTER
(not too worried yet)
Seriously, I’ve got something due tomorrow.
(MOTHER her gesticulating arm drops, her shoulders slump, and she cries. Quietly.)
(now DAUGHTER’s worried. sighs)
Oh, not this.
MOTHER
(throws back her head and lets out a histrionic cry)
Oh ye gods! What have I done to deserve such a wicked child…
DAUGHTER
(frowning at MOTHER, then gets interested in fingernails, examines them for dirt… very important to undercut MOTHER’s display)
I ate garlic and slept upside down for a month, and still you would not give me a boy… A boy, my kingdom for a boy…
FATHER
(above his book, to audience)
The rational sex…
(DAUGHTER glares at him. He looks down at his book)
DAUGHTER
There you go, make a nice fuss… You’ll feel better.
MOTHER
I’ve always given so much… Ye gods, when will it be enough!
DAUGHTER
(lies MOTHER down)
Like a drink with your fuss?
MOTHER
Huh?
DAUGHTER
Yes… A nice drink. Of alcohol.
(pulls out a water bottle)
Like this one here.
(FATHER looks over, frowns)
DAUGHTER
You’ve had a big day, and this is what people do after big days, they drink them away.
MOTHER
Yes… It was quite big.
DAUGHTER
I know…
MOTHER
(Looks deep into the drink, then up at her, a bit suspicious)
I didn’t think we had any…
DAUGHTER
Its from my room.
MOTHER
(sits up, glares at her)
Young lady…
DAUGHTER
If I kept it down here it’d be gone in one…
(pause. Taking the piss)
Morning…
MOTHER
(indignant)
I suppose that’s my fault, too.
DAUGHTER
Its not like we force you to drink…
(MOTHER looks suspiciously at the drink)
DAUGHTER
Except this one time…
MOTHER
You’re a good daughter…
DAUGHTER
(pause. MOTHER thinks it’s a tender moment between them. DAUGHTER grabs the glass and brings it to her mother’s mouth)
Drink your drink.
MOTHER
(when she’s had enough, hurls the glass, which is actually plastic, off-stage)
Tastes salty. Like my tears.
(starts her off again)
DAUGHTER
Oh, shut up… Those tears…
(pats her head)
There… There…
(MOTHER becoming more drowsy, looks around for a pillow, sees Father’s coat, whips it out from behind him, FATHER has a delayed reaction. While DAUGHTER folds it into a pillow, FATHER feels around behind his back.)
There y’are.
(MOTHER makes happily sleeping noises)
Just think happy thoughts.
(MOTHER moans restlessly)
Like those two people you buried today.
(MOTHER smiles and moans happily in her sleep)
And the one you killed.
(MOTHER nods, in her sleep)
Well, that was easy. Dad, have you seen the… tape?
FATHER
(mystified)
What tape?
DAUGHTER
You know.
FATHER
We don’t have any tape…
DAUGHTER
The tape. Your favourite kind. I know you’re just playing dumb.
FATHER
If you’re going to be like that…
DAUGHTER
Okay, okay, I’m sorry… You know, the packing tape she’s so fond of.
FATHER
(frowns for a long pause, as if this isn’t true, then he remembers)
Oh yeah… Its…
(lifs up his legs, looks under his feet, peers into his top pocket, pulls out his trouser pockets, spilling coins all over the place)
Oops…
(grinning like an idiot, he kneels to scoop it all up)
Change… Fell…
(laughs nervously)
DAUGHTER
Dad, would you hurry up.
FATHER
Sure.
(Finds the tape, gives it to her)
Ah, here it is.
(Settles back to his philosophy, which he strains to concentrate on)
DAUGHTER
Now…
(Back to audience… kneels, hides her work, ties MOTHER’s hands behind her back)
Can I borrow your knife?
(FATHER hands her a large knife. FATHER does not seem worried. DAUGHTER pretends to be doing a delicate operation. The actor applies a red dot to end of MOTHER’s nose, some on her ear, and two lines between her eyes.)
Thanks.
(admires it)
Huh.
(hands it back to him)
FATHER
I like to think it can cut through bone, but I’ve always been too shy to try it.
DAUGHTER
It does cartlidge.
FATHER
Oh, well that’s something.
(PAUSE. DAUGHTER gets her bag, picks up a few things)
(like she’s going away for the summer)
Going so soon?
DAUGHTER
I have to.
FATHER
Well…
(pause)
Be safe.
DAUGHTER
(frowns, confused, exits)
(The calm before the storm. FATHER reads his paper, frowns a little, in the silence of the quiet stage, gets an itchy nose, moans a little about it, then is seriously shocked when)
MOTHER
(Her hands are tied. She looks all over here for missing body parts, twitches her nose. It feels strange. She assumes she’s been butchered, which she has. She groans in frustration… A hollow woofing kind of sound)
My ear. Where’s my ear gone?
FATHER
(not looking up from his paper)
Where did you last see it?
MOTHER
(pause)
In the mirror this morning.
FATHER
Well, that’s where it’ll be.
(MOTHER gets up, exits. Off-stage, she screams. Rushes back in)
MOTHER
Have you seen this? Look what that daughter of yours has done to me.
FATHER
(not looking up)
You look fine.
MOTHER
Excuse me.
(goes to slap him, finds her hands are tied… )
What now…
(Tries to look at how they’re tied, goes around in a little circle like a dog chasing its tail. Groans in frustration when she can’t slap him.)
She’s taken a bit off my nose… And put it between my eyes… Can’t you see the difference?
FATHER
(stares at her, squints)
Oh yeah…
(MOTHER’s head sinks)
Come here…
(holds her by the waist, brandishes his knife)
MOTHER
(touches the end of the knife)
There’s blood on it…
FATHER
Oh yeah…
(shrugs)
Turn around.
(he cuts the tape, swivels her to face him)
(looking closer at her new face)
Actually, I hate to say it, but…
MOTHER
(tries to stop him, but its too late)
Don’t you…
FATHER
I think she’s done you a favour.
MOTHER
This is my face, no-one’s allowed to work on it unless I’m paying them… Why do you always side with her… Is it because I’m… old?
(she begins to boo-hoo loudly, only breaking boo-hooing to articulate her following lines)
FATHER
There there…
(He stands up to embrace her, she falls into his arms.)
MOTHER
I hate her.
FATHER
I know you do.
MOTHER
I’m going to…
(makes lazy stabbing motion with both hands, then waves it away)
FATHER
(in response to her mime)
Its only fair.
MOTHER
And then I’ll…
(she ties a big bow in the air and pulls it upwards to make a noose then clasps her hands together and pumps them)
FATHER
(in response to her mime)
No-one would think badly of you.
MOTHER
(she’s just sniffling now, and lying on his chest, plays with his shirt)
Can I have a new daughter?
FATHER
We’ll send off the application in the morning.
MOTHER
I’ve still got you!
(They smile at each other)
Unless you piss me off…
(Pincers him in love handles and he makes a noise half way between a laugh and a scream)
(NOTE: his unexpected noise punctuates the end of the play, and co-incides with lights off)
CURTAIN
END OF PLAY
Poem: Drunken Conversation
If I was a pillow I’d stay
Here all day with you.
If my fingers were keys
So I had, like, key-hands,
I’d never lose my keys;
And they'd be ready,
If you’d follow me.
I don't know about touching you...
I might just have to say nice things,
And hope that was as fulfilling.
What if you were so normal
It surprised you
My wearing a pink bow
And saying “happy birthday,”
Brain leaking
Out across my cheek?
I can go ages without seeing you
But I can’t ever leave once I do.
If the windows had bars…
Do the windows have bars?
Anyway, I’d do the same thing
All the time. But if I died,
I’d come back; make things up;
Have you believe them.
Or I could teach you to fly
So high we asphyxiate.
Or even higher.
Depends how far away the sky is –
From down here, it looks like a while.
Sep, 07.
Here all day with you.
If my fingers were keys
So I had, like, key-hands,
I’d never lose my keys;
And they'd be ready,
If you’d follow me.
I don't know about touching you...
I might just have to say nice things,
And hope that was as fulfilling.
What if you were so normal
It surprised you
My wearing a pink bow
And saying “happy birthday,”
Brain leaking
Out across my cheek?
I can go ages without seeing you
But I can’t ever leave once I do.
If the windows had bars…
Do the windows have bars?
Anyway, I’d do the same thing
All the time. But if I died,
I’d come back; make things up;
Have you believe them.
Or I could teach you to fly
So high we asphyxiate.
Or even higher.
Depends how far away the sky is –
From down here, it looks like a while.
Sep, 07.
Poem: Abortion
I was born
The other day
It was strange.
I didn’t have
A thing to say
Or anyone to blame.
I began
In a round
(Wrong around)
About way
Wet with stuff
From inside mum
And tear ducts.
I didn’t know
I didn’t think
No-one did,
‘Cept I came
With no hair
And went with
No sense.
I lived;
I live;
But if that’s all,
Is it enough?
Does one word
Follow another
Because it doesn’t
Know any better? like
A line of ants?
What if I
Got my hand
And stopped
The other day
It was strange.
I didn’t have
A thing to say
Or anyone to blame.
I began
In a round
(Wrong around)
About way
Wet with stuff
From inside mum
And tear ducts.
I didn’t know
I didn’t think
No-one did,
‘Cept I came
With no hair
And went with
No sense.
I lived;
I live;
But if that’s all,
Is it enough?
Does one word
Follow another
Because it doesn’t
Know any better? like
A line of ants?
What if I
Got my hand
And stopped
Blog: For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn.
I just found out Hemingway once, on a bet, thought of a complete story in six words.
For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn.
- Hemingway
I can't believe I never heard this before.
That's all.
Also, the title of my blog mentions a supposed work-a-hole world; now, I don't know if anyone noticed, but I've been seriously considering becoming a part of this world, going so far as to begin a vocational degree, in teaching, as if such a thing is possible; I still don't know that it is.
I don't mean to separate myself from the world people are in when they're building a library or fitting together links in a causal chain that proves who killed JFK, but I don't feel like this little world my words live in wants to mesh with that world. No matter how many people I attempt to teach something they insist they don't need to know, this world will go on. A cheshire divided against itself CAN stand; and I can stand it.
For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn.
- Hemingway
I can't believe I never heard this before.
That's all.
Also, the title of my blog mentions a supposed work-a-hole world; now, I don't know if anyone noticed, but I've been seriously considering becoming a part of this world, going so far as to begin a vocational degree, in teaching, as if such a thing is possible; I still don't know that it is.
I don't mean to separate myself from the world people are in when they're building a library or fitting together links in a causal chain that proves who killed JFK, but I don't feel like this little world my words live in wants to mesh with that world. No matter how many people I attempt to teach something they insist they don't need to know, this world will go on. A cheshire divided against itself CAN stand; and I can stand it.
Poem: My best and shortest poems
Surgeon School
This guy’s made a tossed salad
of my insides.
I shouldn’t have given my body to science
while I was still alive.
My Culture
I love a skin cancerous country
A land of babbling blokes
Who wouldn't know high culture
If you shoved it down their throats.
The Great Australian Bite
I took a bite out of the ass of Australia;
Spat it out, it tasted like shit.
Bonfire at Night
The sweet smell
Of a bonfire at night
When you have a crush
On someone nearby.
You’d give the world
To touch;
And nothing separates
The days.
Poem: Hole in the Ear
I’ve got a hole in my ear
Its not the regular one; its further in
Where maybe something should be
But no-one remembers enough to mention it.
Its got an eye of its own
And a shutter, closed.
My doctor made it a woolen jacket
Which sounds like hearing damage.
A broken ear is worse than a holey ear
Which can’t be bad (if you know your Bible).
Holes can let light in; or souls out
But they don’t think, so they’re safe enough.
Holes are the reason why no-one can
Find the mind; it slipped out, at some point.
Or so I heard.
Its not the regular one; its further in
Where maybe something should be
But no-one remembers enough to mention it.
Its got an eye of its own
And a shutter, closed.
My doctor made it a woolen jacket
Which sounds like hearing damage.
A broken ear is worse than a holey ear
Which can’t be bad (if you know your Bible).
Holes can let light in; or souls out
But they don’t think, so they’re safe enough.
Holes are the reason why no-one can
Find the mind; it slipped out, at some point.
Or so I heard.
Thursday 13 September 2007
Lyrics: Beyonce Redux
Smith/Beyonce/Eriksen/Hermansen/Lind/Bjorklund/Cheshire
To the left, to the left x2
There’s a queue there, not the letter, but when people stand together
To the left, to the left x2
There’s a guy with X-ray vision, he can see through television
He comments to his wife, who’s not wearing knickers
Who am I to judge, it seems to work for them…
You must not CHORUS
I’ve even seen some people you wouldn’t see in cyclopedias
They’re the things that, if you listen, tell you more than what words mean…
I saw a young man, with a tired heart, with all his stories torn apart
He just sat down, when that happened, took a page out, and started again…
All his bookshelves were, filled up with picture books, and he couldn’t drag, a thousand words from them…
You must not CHORUS
There’s a big sky, and a paper mountain, an Achilles courtyard fountain
There’s a moon, in june… When you run dry, just drink again…
What were the words I said, when I was writing this,
Thing for beyonce, that I knew they’d change…
You must not know about me, you must not know about me… Beyonce…
If I had worn a dress, and I had changed my sex,
Would I still be… Would I still be… To the left…
To the left, to the left x2
There’s a queue there, not the letter, but when people stand together
To the left, to the left x2
There’s a guy with X-ray vision, he can see through television
He comments to his wife, who’s not wearing knickers
Who am I to judge, it seems to work for them…
You must not CHORUS
I’ve even seen some people you wouldn’t see in cyclopedias
They’re the things that, if you listen, tell you more than what words mean…
I saw a young man, with a tired heart, with all his stories torn apart
He just sat down, when that happened, took a page out, and started again…
All his bookshelves were, filled up with picture books, and he couldn’t drag, a thousand words from them…
You must not CHORUS
There’s a big sky, and a paper mountain, an Achilles courtyard fountain
There’s a moon, in june… When you run dry, just drink again…
What were the words I said, when I was writing this,
Thing for beyonce, that I knew they’d change…
You must not know about me, you must not know about me… Beyonce…
If I had worn a dress, and I had changed my sex,
Would I still be… Would I still be… To the left…
Lyrics: Mickey (Mouse)
Chapman/Chinn/Cheshire
I’m ashamed to show you round, cause you look just like a mouse
But I can hardly shut my mouth, cause you’ve stunk up my house
You hear everything I sing, cause your ears are really big
When you make a squeak, and I think that you speak,
Oh, mickey, it’s a pity, you don’t understand,
You take me by the heart, and you take me by the hand
Oh, mickey, you’re so pretty, can’t you understand,
Its mice like you, mickey,
Ooh what you do, mickey, mouse mickey, smell up my house, mickey…
Ooh, look over here, while I feed him beer,
To loosen up his claws, and loosen up his jaws…
I keep him in a cage, till he can say my name
He’s no good to me, without fluency…
Ooh, look over there, there’s a little chair,
If I could make him sit, I could do anything…
If he sleeps inside my sock, he gets an electric shock
I don’t know what I’d do, if he shat inside my shoe…
I’m ashamed to show you round, cause you look just like a mouse
But I can hardly shut my mouth, cause you’ve stunk up my house
You hear everything I sing, cause your ears are really big
When you make a squeak, and I think that you speak,
Oh, mickey, it’s a pity, you don’t understand,
You take me by the heart, and you take me by the hand
Oh, mickey, you’re so pretty, can’t you understand,
Its mice like you, mickey,
Ooh what you do, mickey, mouse mickey, smell up my house, mickey…
Ooh, look over here, while I feed him beer,
To loosen up his claws, and loosen up his jaws…
I keep him in a cage, till he can say my name
He’s no good to me, without fluency…
Ooh, look over there, there’s a little chair,
If I could make him sit, I could do anything…
If he sleeps inside my sock, he gets an electric shock
I don’t know what I’d do, if he shat inside my shoe…
Lyrics: Heaven
I went to heaven
It was okay but I thought it would be better
There were no angels
Everyone was queuing up orderly to pay their
Taxes in the rain, cause they didn’t care
Why? Cause nothing matters once you’re in heaven…
I felt a bit dirty
Being a round so much cleanness and perfection
I tried an exper’ment
I spat in some eyes but saliva there tastes like
Perfume and it stings
But no-one seemed to care
Why? Cause nothing matters once you’re in heaven…
Well, I was in heaven,
I tried to hum but my mum said it was forbidden
They let me audition
And I went (audition noises)
No-one seemed to hear,
Unless you’re in the choir,
Can something else maybe matter if you’re in heaven…
I went to heaven
But I never thought my report would be forgotten
I went to heaven, it was okay but I wouldn't go back if you
Shot me with a gun, until I got things done...
Why? Cause nothing matters, if you're in heaven.
It was okay but I thought it would be better
There were no angels
Everyone was queuing up orderly to pay their
Taxes in the rain, cause they didn’t care
Why? Cause nothing matters once you’re in heaven…
I felt a bit dirty
Being a round so much cleanness and perfection
I tried an exper’ment
I spat in some eyes but saliva there tastes like
Perfume and it stings
But no-one seemed to care
Why? Cause nothing matters once you’re in heaven…
Well, I was in heaven,
I tried to hum but my mum said it was forbidden
They let me audition
And I went (audition noises)
No-one seemed to hear,
Unless you’re in the choir,
Can something else maybe matter if you’re in heaven…
I went to heaven
But I never thought my report would be forgotten
I went to heaven, it was okay but I wouldn't go back if you
Shot me with a gun, until I got things done...
Why? Cause nothing matters, if you're in heaven.
Lyrics: People I Knew When I Was Four
My mamma told me to read a lot
She never told me my eyes would go
Daddy told me chicks were great
He never told me they’d make me ache
I stand in awe of
The people I knew when I was four
They told me I’d grow to be a big boy
Now I’m grown, but not tall, so what for?
One of my grandpa’s is a troglodyte
The other’s scared of reality
One of my grandma’d kiss me if I was sick
The other’d say get away quick
I stand in awe - of
The people I knew when I was - four
They told me I’d grow to be a big – boy
Now I’m grown, but not tall, so what for?
One of my uncles said I’d had my best age
And the other said I’d just have to wait
Then a wise man said stay at home
But the other said you’ll have to roam
And I stand in awe - of
The people I knew when I was - four
They told me I’d grow to be a big – boy
Now I’m grown, but not tall, so what for?
The other day I was caught by the cops
Driving my family in a getaway car
He just asked me where was I heading
In a car full of people like me
So I told him...
I stand in awe - of
The people I knew when I was - four
They told me I’d grow to be a big – boy
Now I’m grown, but not tall, so what for?
Lyrics: The Day You Left Me
I laughed since the day you left me
I laughed when you said goodbye
Its quieter now, without your talk
I talk to myself, and get more sense than I ever did from you
2. I laughed since the day you left me
But I cried when you dropped back in
I’ve changed the locks, a day too late
Now you’ve burrowed in, and you’re leeching off of my philanthropy
3. I laughed since the day you left me
But I swore all the time when you returned
I’m going out, and coming back,
When I come back… You won’t be here, you won’t he here still…
(Will you?)
4. I laughed since the day you left me
Cause I could pick my nose and fart without a fuss
But you fucked that up, didja know, I liked life better when you were on the road.
5. I laughed since the day you left again
Though I kissed your fucken ass while you were here
I’d like to see you find me now
Cause I’ve sold the house to a gang of bikers with hunting licenses
6. I laughed till they laid you down
Cause in the end I guess I’d had some fun
That’s the main thing, ain’t it, dear
Hope this finds you well or down a well.
7.6.07
I laughed when you said goodbye
Its quieter now, without your talk
I talk to myself, and get more sense than I ever did from you
2. I laughed since the day you left me
But I cried when you dropped back in
I’ve changed the locks, a day too late
Now you’ve burrowed in, and you’re leeching off of my philanthropy
3. I laughed since the day you left me
But I swore all the time when you returned
I’m going out, and coming back,
When I come back… You won’t be here, you won’t he here still…
(Will you?)
4. I laughed since the day you left me
Cause I could pick my nose and fart without a fuss
But you fucked that up, didja know, I liked life better when you were on the road.
5. I laughed since the day you left again
Though I kissed your fucken ass while you were here
I’d like to see you find me now
Cause I’ve sold the house to a gang of bikers with hunting licenses
6. I laughed till they laid you down
Cause in the end I guess I’d had some fun
That’s the main thing, ain’t it, dear
Hope this finds you well or down a well.
7.6.07
Blog: Update
Too much has been going on since my last post; if you're wondering why I'm so seriously neglecting my online life, its cause I've been so busy with my real life.
I'm studying to be an english teacher, and I just passed my first prac. I recently submitted two new poems to a host of magazines, after rekindling a love for poetry thanks to Harold Bloom's "Genius" and facebook's poetry shout. Who needs blogspot when you have facebook, really...
At time of writing, I'm making my directorial debut of Being There (the second of my plays to be performed; which is not affiliated with the Peter Sellars movie); a domestic black comedy of around 20 minutes, which is part of a short play festival with Sydney Uni Drama Society and the 2007 Verge, arts festival. Getting actors to bring my ideas to life is an electrifying experience. Seriously, I got a shock at one point. It might have been static electricity, I'm still waiting to hear back on that.
I'm just preparing videos of a gig I recently did with Ali on violin at Madame Fling Flong for youtube; and John Columbus have our EP completed and mastered, and it sounds terrific; I'm so proud to have been involved.
I'm studying to be an english teacher, and I just passed my first prac. I recently submitted two new poems to a host of magazines, after rekindling a love for poetry thanks to Harold Bloom's "Genius" and facebook's poetry shout. Who needs blogspot when you have facebook, really...
At time of writing, I'm making my directorial debut of Being There (the second of my plays to be performed; which is not affiliated with the Peter Sellars movie); a domestic black comedy of around 20 minutes, which is part of a short play festival with Sydney Uni Drama Society and the 2007 Verge, arts festival. Getting actors to bring my ideas to life is an electrifying experience. Seriously, I got a shock at one point. It might have been static electricity, I'm still waiting to hear back on that.
I'm just preparing videos of a gig I recently did with Ali on violin at Madame Fling Flong for youtube; and John Columbus have our EP completed and mastered, and it sounds terrific; I'm so proud to have been involved.
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