Tuesday, April 5, 2011

First Page of New Play "Siren Tears" (From a Shakespeare Sonnet)

(You may use whatever stage you have. There should be a fainting couch, a long curved bench that a woman can lay back on. Bandu enters at a leisurely pace. He has a beard, sunglasses, and a hat pulled down. He purrs when he talks.)

Stud boys and Ladies...Gentlemen and Cooze.
Welcome to the birth of rhyming reason.
Land of poetry and classic brown booze.

X Y Z pronounced just like it’s spelled: Xyz.
Oh, it feels good to say the name of Truth.
Trip on your tongue as it dazzles your eyes.

Xyz. Xyz. Xyz.

O.K. Cats, here’s the dealio. The man has played the legality card on our sorry asses and we now have to balance the rhymes of our lovely peahens alongside the peacocks in that great moment that is known as the Saturday Slam at Xyz. I know! I know! We are but innocent pigs. My apologies, but I thought you knew we knew you knew. You know? Whatever. New age. New day. Kerouac stands next to Angelou. Alan plays nice with Sylvia. Peace. I hope that you comprehend that we didn’t disenfranchise the Sisterhood, but the thing of it is...we never really brought them around and they never really asked for entree...capice? Stand up for yourself, my sisters. And you did. All right, then. Water under the bridge, as the cliché clicks. Let me introduce for the first time in our collective consciousness... The lovely Miss Adoree.

(Adoree enters, dressed in white. She is around 40 years old and beautiful. She sits on the chaise and reclines.)

Silken ashes slipping through our fingers
Casts the scent of cedar throughout the room.
Breeze rises through the curtains and lingers
Cooling air and making our bed a womb.

Pale sunshine captured in linen valleys
Musk of manhood on my body like dew.
Female perfumes on your hair and fingers.
My Love, you are in me and I on you.

You stained my tan flesh like India ink,
But you washed me off you within the hour.
And walked to other beds with no goodbye.
Silence that thundered and made me cower.

Was he dead or injured or stricken dumb?
I was called mad when I demanded answer.
And told “be silent and let man be man”.
And was treated like a despised cancer.

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