Drama in Last Acts

Throughout, the days of summer will be portrayed

by tiers of bells wheeled across the stage.

From the beginning the intensity

will be rivaled only by bulbs slapped

and burning brightly before burning out.

Plucked chickens lowered on ropes

will be understood as meaning disaster

just as the old man laboring over the message

will be understood as a king laboring over a message.

I can see I’m going to have to start over.

I don’t know which of Melissa’s cast parties

was the best, the one with the mannequins

or the one with the chickens on ropes

or the one where we arrived just as the cops

cruised up and we walked past, flimsy

with our contraband, our faces hot

beneath the masks. You won’t believe

what I went through to get her back.

All of you, over there!

We put right angles of tape on the stage,

color-coded. Throughout the summer they love each other.

She was brokenhearted about the binoculars.

The going-to-hell scene would be done with saxophones,

given budget limitations.

What else could all the green velvet mean

and that couch with the lion’s paws?

Such simple things: glass, rope,

left to right. Just tell me where I stand.

We sat not talking, the list of numbers between us.

I kept waiting for the fierce dogs to come from the fog

or I love you I love you I love you.

We built the fire carefully but were completely

unprepared for the red triangle. Then I lost her

in the smoke. Again. Then I lost her.

Try it without the sword. I lost her.

No starting over now.

Your seat is B-33. Your seat is DD-9.

Everyone agrees that the pomegranate

makes all the difference, and worse, on the sixth night,

Bill forgot and only a banana could be quickly found.

Imagine a whip instead of the binoculars

or a lily or a small girl with an oar.

They sat not looking at each other.

Already trees losing leaves.

Now what, she cried but it was more a projection

of her crying, you could see the exit lights

through her forehead. Lost. And in desire

to sing like a tree losing its leaves.

Is this how it ends? she asks, bunching up

her coat. I held the little flashlight

disguised as a candle that made me feel holy

just as the white gloves made me feel

invulnerable and nearly vanished.