Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Why act so formal?

THE LOVER:
I just don’t see the point of it. I mean,
why act so formal? Why hold back at all?

CONSEQUENCE:
(Whispering.) Say you’re not holding back.

THE POET
I don’t… I don’t expect you to understand.

CONSEQUENCE:
He crosses to THE LOVER; a spotlight follows.
They’re close enough to kiss. Somber, he swallows.

THE POET:
Why rhyme? Why verse?

THE LOVER:
Billy...

THE POET:
                                                           Why paint what isn't there?
Why bother learning steps—or anything?
Why give the horn its valves or string our hair
along the cello, asking it to sing? —
If people sculpted everywhere they went—
No— If we all danced our way to work each day,
of course it would seem pointless to be sent
to sit in the dark before some wrought ballet...
And yet we talk (A pause.) of how some poets speak
as if it's simply pretty, passion spent,
when really it's the making sound we seek,
not tradition only, some trick accomplishment.
My tribe... We are rememberers of music!
Glorifying language by using it.
 

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