This show premiered at Hipbone Studio in Portland in February (the month of love, doncha know) 2008. More info is coming.
Who isn’t haunted by the roaches that creep through the brain’s kitchen at 4 a.m.? I couldn’t see and create myself when no one else even bothered to see me. So I signed up for some expensive coursework. You can’t cram for exams at the School of Hard Knocks.
In those days, my body’s insistent desire came from the fear of alone-ness: am I undesired and undesirable? But longing, no–not longing. All the love and affection seemed dried up and blown away. After all those futile attempts to make the marriage work there was no more fantasy left.
Delight…transformation…I remember. The blood pounds love and lust. You’ve opened the beautiful flows of his tenderest spots, his giving spots, so long warped and turned inside. Your lips and touch bring healing. From this perch on the edge of Shangri-la you see me as the greatest threat—to what? You’re face to face with your lover, [...]
Greedy barnacles slurped their soup at hillside bistros. Tiny crabs paraded from neighborhood to neighborhood, skittish about the traffic. I drank it all in until my eye finally said “too much for one day;” the end of many city scapes.
Love beyond the bursting of passion in each artery wall and sticky bit of skin, love past the years, love over fifty, love through the dark times—that lasting, longed-for, whole adult love—must be generous. It cannot demand more than it gives; it cannot measure the gift.
Listen to his heart’s tongue. You only know your own jealous blood. You’ve been burned and betrayed before—that shows. So now you would stifle all skin—fine or fiery. But now’s time to trust him and your sleek passion.
Now, computer dating is already a pretty weird thing. We’ve taken some sort of mysterious Darwinian biochemical social phenomena and made it a language-based, picture assisted lottery. Or I guess if you’re a guy, it’s more of a picture-based language-assisted bar stool. In any case, words are important. The word was ‘Mensch’ in Big Words.
I hadn’t checked into a hotel with a man other than my ex in over 20 years. The atmosphere was so charged I could barely sign. There was a king sized bed, a hot tub, and the two of us for hours and hours. Just after midnight we finally dragged ourselves out of bed and down to the beach. I’d heard something about the Leonid meteor shower.
All that energy scibbered away.
It sprung me: toss it in or let it out?
Maybe I could have spent it better
making something to hold onto…a nice pot.