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Now Playing!
A THESPIAN’S PHANTOM—MIDNIGHT
pamphlets flutter into
the wingspan of cardinal-red seats
heading westbound onto
off-broadway prospect;
delivery sublime,
sanguinely,
or else how would a medium like ours
behead critics in the shadow
limelight refracts
THEIR COLUMNS: forebode
each row in the house,
meanwhile agile whispers
take flight from one end to the other;
the curtains curtail,
but we cast our vows
to eulogize ‘morrow’s performance,
Unabridged
UPSTAGE LEFT, an evict somehow
by understudy;
his soliloquy insults a crowd
only convinced otherwise,
taunted momentarily by a lease on time
Our spectators act to compliment
and not to virtue when
the chameleons
pour out on wooden planks;
we outnumber regardless
in tried and true fashion
INTERMISSIONs pushback
the wordless overtures,
exercising rhapsodic language
in the midst of hesitation;
dance ribbons the echochamber
through tailored observance,
tuning a mass temperament anent
the minute: the second act, unbegun,
flocks the balcony to their feet.
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