All Alone, an uncompleted script.

(Kid shoulders his backpack.  The end of another school day.  The bells are ringing in the hallway and kids are zooming every which way, trying to get out of Berrymill Elementary School as fast as their legs can carry them.  The kid slowly drags his feet.  He didn’t want to go home, to see his sick, bed-ridden mother.  It was too scary, too real.  He shoulders his backpack again, sighs, and hurries out the double doors of the school.)
(Kid starts to walk home.  It is a pleasant day outside; the birds are singing; the sun is high in the sky.  He goes past Rite Aid, and walks two more blocks before finally reaching home.  He takes a deep breath, and opens the door.  He steps inside, his heart beating a mile a minute-will his mother be better, or worse?  His heart sinks.  She’s still laying in bed.  Kid walks over to her and kisses her cheek.  Then, he rearranges her blankets so they’re tucked under her chin.)  Hi, Mom.
Mom:  Hello, sweetie, how was school?
Kid (a bit sharply):  Fine.
Mom:  Do you have homework?
(Kid bobs his head):  Lots.
Mom:  I have an errand for you.  I need you to go to the store and help me get the groceries.  We’re almost out of everything.
Kid:  You can’t go to the store in your condition.  I’ll get Dad-
Mom:  No, no.  I’ll do it.  Doctor says I have to get up and about anyway.  Good, your coat is still on.  (She throws the covers off of her and drags herself off the couch.  She goes to the coat closet and puts on a blue jacket.)  Let’s go, honey.
Kid (sighs):  All right, Mom, if this is what you want.
Mom (sharply):  You’re starting to sound a lot like your dad.
Kid:  Takes one to know one!  (He hops into the car and his mother slides behind the wheel in the driver’s seat.)
(Soon, they reach the grocery store.  His mother pulls the car into a parking spot-close to the door-and turns around to face her son.)  Fill it up as much as you can.  Here’s two hundred dollars.
(Kid takes the money):  All right, Mom, if you say so.
Mom:  I say so.
(Kid hurries out of the car and into the store.  It is bustling with activity.  He grabs a cart and starts going down the aisles.  Halfway down the flour aisle, a man approaches him.)
Man:  What are you doing in here, kid?
Kid:  I’m shopping for my mother.
Man:  I’m sorry I asked.
(Kid takes the cart and hurries down another aisle.)
(Kid makes his purchases and takes the groceries out to the car.  His mother gets out of the front seat and helps put the groceries in the trunk.  Then, he hops into the car again and they head home.)
*
Dad:  Thanks for helping your mother today, son.  It was a big help.
Kid:  It was no problem.  Except this guy asked me what I was doing in the grocery store by myself.
Dad:  Just tell him the truth, son.  That’s all you can do.
Kid:  I guess so.
Dad:  Have you done your homework yet?
Kid:  No, not yet.  It’s not a lot, really.
Dad:  Get to it, son.  We want you to be a learned person, not illiterate like some folk.
Kid:  Okay, Dad.

See & Hear.

I see and hear differently.  I make my mark.
Tomorrow will be a better day than today.
Tomorrow the sky will be blue, not rainy like it is
Today.  This is what I’m doing:  fishing, hoping
To catch a whale.  They are massive in size,
And twice as hungry-maybe the whale will
Eat me instead.  I can’t think about that right now.
I have to hurry and get packing, so I will be
Ready to get on that boat that is going to launch
Soon.  Hurry, hurry, it needs to get here fast.
I hope my good times last.  This is not what I’m
Thinking.  Better days, better ways-sit now on
Sunflowers, looking at the soft rain, dreaming
Of the whale.  The boat needs to be fixed.  I’ll call
Dale and have him come fix it-he’s a master of
Fixing the broken and the sad-it’s why I love him.
Different ways, soft, caramel days.  That’s why I’m here.
The muse is clear.  Nothing but tomorrow to ease me
Forward-this is night, now, and stars fill the sky with
Barren ease, and the ease comes when I’m ready-
Nothing will last.  I hope it will.

Nowhere.

My mind is ready
To be healed
I am ready for the forlorn
Look my grandmother will give me
at the funeral

I am not steady.  My heart is not
Steady.
Where do I belong?  I have found nowhere
Will suffice.  Nowhere, nowhere,
The ground I walk upon.

Forgotten.

I share the reason beyond reason-
I take my heart with me.
Everything is bound to be something different,
Don’t take yourself to the highest point.
The highest point is ready or not,
My life has been forgotten.  Everyone is staring
At me, I don’t know what to do about it.
My life is a crowd.  People crowd in my house
And won’t let me live.  They crowd on the stairs,
In the basement-I can’t get up the stairs.  Tell me,
What is it you seek, do you wish for reasons unknown,
The breakfast bunny has come to take me home,
I have forgotten what it is I believe in.

That Girl is Poison.

a song

That girl is poison, poison, poison
She rolls around like a dice in the sky

The wind comes back and here I cry,
A warthog sings a lullabye

Do you know what time is worth?
This silly man thinks poorly of birth.

I ate a hamburger all alone,
One hand on my xylophone.

That girl is poison, poison, poison,
I see her for who she is.

She waves at me from a distance.
Her hair is in a fritz.

Say lullabye and goodnight,
We hold together all through the night.

Each of us have our own,
Her hands are still as stone.

That girl is poison, poison, poison,
That girl is poison, poison, poison.

Jasper's Place, a short play

Jasper:  How long did it take you to get here?
Sam:  About fifteen minutes.
Jasper:  That’s not too bad, is it?
Sam:  No, it’s not.
Jasper:  Do you want to go fishing?
Sam:  No, it’s freezing out there!  I wouldn’t go fishing for a million dollars in this weather.
Jasper:  You’re crazy.  It’s not cold out.  (he grabs his coat from off the coach and puts it on.)  There.  Now, I’m ready.
Sam:  I thought we were going to hang out, not go ice fishing?
Jasper:  I’m not going ice fishing, I’m going regular fishing.
Sam:  Oh, that makes a big difference.  Let’s have some beers.
Jasper:  Okay, but going ice fishing is better than a beer.
(Sam gaasps.):  Oh, no, you did not just say that!
Jasper:  I did and I mean every word of it.
Sam:  You take that back!
Jasper:  I will not.
Sam:  Yes, you will.  Take it back, I said!
(The front door opens and closes.  A teenager steps inside the house.  She has long, dark hair and blue eyes.)  Hi, Dad.
Jasper:  Hi, pumpkin.
Sara:  Don’t call me pumpkin, you know I hate that.
Jasper:  None of your friends are around.
Sara:  That’s true, that’s true…why do you have your coat on, are you going somewhere?
Jasper:  I was going to go ice fishing, but Sam wouldn’t let me.
Sam:  It’s for your own good.

Where Was I?

March is settling in.  There is still snow on
The ground.  I am the cheese and macaroni you have for dinner.
I am the great Ghandi.  Don’t tell me March isn’t settling in,

I didn’t know it the first time before we woke at dawn
And the world came crashing down on our heads.  Sometimes,
I wait for you in the middle of the night, dreaming of your soft,

Silken hands and nose.  This is what I see:  a guy belonging
To me, seeing me for who I am, not what I can do for him.

I look outside the window and see the rain falling on the windowpane,
Rain scares me like violence scares others.  The patter of rain is like
Gunshots going off.  The patter of rain is like birds’ wings flying

North to Florida or Alabama.  I see better now.  I seek better resolutions.
I see myself crying.  It is what it is, born before us of greatness,

And words, round and clear as glass.

Where was I?

Left Me.

He left me like a warthog leaves a sunrise
He left me in the middle of the purple night
He left me like flowers growing
He left me
He left me
Still I see him standing near the sea shore,
Smiling at the open sky
He left me unattended
He left me without my purse and nakedness

Again.

He told me he didn’t want to see me again;
that that was the end of our romance.
Out of place in the restaurant,
I began to cry-the words silently rolled down my cheeks.
Everything was falling apart, including my dress.
I accidently tore it on the way inside the restaurant,
my knee caps showing.  Anyway, he left me for a girl
I didn’t like.  I pray  he will return to me.
We are meant to be together.
The flowers he gave me for last Valentine’s Day
are still sitting on my dresser in my bedroom.
I can’t stand crying in public.
I gave up everything for us to be together,
it wasn’t worth it now, I see it now,
standing in front of me like a tidal wave
climbing up into the burnt brown sky.
His eyes are brown.
He gets up, throws money on the table, and leaves,
with me crying after him-”Don’t go.”

I move to the ocean to get away from memories
of him-he left his clothes there, in our old apartment, and I picture him
wandering around naked somewhere, and my eyes smile a bit.
Not too much.  This is what it feels like to have a heart broken-
I never had one before, this is my first time.
I capture the image of him in my mind,
the way his hair wove about his head,
the way he smiled, and his laughter that was like the trill of a bird.
 I seek him in my mind.
This is what I seek.

Time and Song, etc.

In the steel mines, the birds are singing with upturned throats-
They see the importance of being important.

I follow my heart with a recorder, life bangs on steel drums.
What I said was, “I can’t take the heat,” to the ballpark manager

And everyone else was fitted for a dress-to me, everything was simple
And workable.  I couldn’t place my agony today.  Where was I?

Time flies by.  Birds make time sing a double note.
I can’t find myself in a mirror, these words I hold dear to me.

With every living thing, I sing a simple song.  My work here is done.
I move on.  With a ratio.  Time stands still.  Everything is workable,

Plus food is needed for the stomach-
I heart today and yesterday-

I know no bounds.  What did I do?  To make time go more slowly.
What did I do to make you go away.  My heart aches for a sticky bun.

I wish I were far from here, a place where I could sing my all,
A place where time is entwined in my own hands.

The Park

Walking in the park on a lazy day afternoon-
Ducks swim in the pond, and I watch them carefully,
To make sure they don’t drown.  Willows whisper
To me excitedly-
I can’t stand them!  They annoy me!  The park is bright
With sunshine,
And I smell honeysuckle on each side of the sidewalk.
The honeysuckle makes me think of home,
For my mother used to grow them in her yard.
Honeysuckles rule the flowers, they are the queen of
The roses and daisies.  It’s the poet in me, I guess,
To know the names of flowers in my head-
I watch them move back and forth in the breeze,
Then I watch the ducks again, the tiniest one makes
Me think “Awww, how cute,” and I smile prettily.

The River.

The clouds come in from the west-it is bitterly cold.
The wolf is laying in his den; icy coldness made from silk
Pours from his nostrils.  The sun is icy, too.  Everything is covered
In ice.  The wolf’s stomach growls.  He wants some food.  He gets up,
And goes for the hunt-a lone rabbit nestled between a tree and a blade
Of grass is his target.  The rabbit sees and bounds into the forest.  The forest
Is practically empty, except for houses on either side.  No one is home,
But they, too, know about the wolf.  Who knows about the wolf?  It asks itself.
Everyone!  That’s why there are so few of them left.  The wolf goes about,
Looking for food.  It sees a river.  What is a river?  Rivers are wide,
And haunt humans.  Humans know nothing but fear.  The joy is in the fear.
The wolf dunks his paw into the river, trying to catch a fish-he tries again,
And again.  His stomach growls.  The wolf comes in threes, and the river
Comes in threes, over and over again, climbing higher into the sky,
The trees see everything, but the wind does not..

In Paris

The night falls on me mercilessly.
My eyes open and close like shades.
I went to the harbor and watched the boats
come in-there are lights flickering
In the windows of the boats.
I turned my eyes away.
It’s hard to watch this all day.
I start walking, my head bent forward,
and the wind flicks my hair every which way.
There are the sounds of boats on the harbor.
Some boats are big; others are small
As cars.  The little boats speed along like nobody’s business.
I walk down the street,
People scream my name-now, how would they know that,
I think to myself, they couldn’t
Know my name, for certain-I don’t know any
of these people!  I am an American, not
French, not European.  In the back of my mind,
I sense danger-the danger of an oncoming
Storm.  The storm of my youth.
Words come from my lips:  “I need to eat.”
So I go into a little café on the end of
Bridge Road.  Bridge Road has a lot of shops.

What the Eagle

The eagle soars with its limbs-I have not been outside today.
The hearts of dreams that I play, are withered in shades of gray.
Everyone says I should be a serpent, quick and loud-
But all I am is a toad.

Where are all the people, I ask.
I found my nerves at last.

I shoulder fortune like a lamb,
For lunch I want a ham.

I’m not an eagle, but I take flight.
In the dark of the bitter, and cold, night.

The snow is falling and the eagle is at rest-
Snow falls upon his nest.

To the middle, to the middle

Of it all.  He catches me while I fall.  

I can’t find myself
Behind the tree-delicious cakes in a cake shop, I have fallen
In love with baking.  

The old mother tells me she has a book of cakes,

And do I want to look at them.  

I said no, I shouldn’t be thinking 
about
Cakes at this time of night, or day, 

I should say, it’s only 4pm.  I have fallen
Off a cliff into an abyss, the abyss is in my garage, 

wrapped in tar paper.
Sometimes I watch tv at night.  

There’s nothing on.  
So I make up stories to myself,
That sound just about right.  

The middle is not about right.  It’s the middle, I said!
The middle!

I stare straight at the sun.  I’m not the only one.  

The Street, the Street

Where am I?  Why am I here?  My words are crystal clear.
The cowboy walks with his head held high.  I couldn’t find a way down
The dark street.

A man follows behind me, quickly-where can I go?
I am lost on the hill below.
Take me to a different place that is far from here,
Where I can be safe from harm.  Take me to a place that is forever warm.
The old man wants icecream.
His name is Seth.  Seth, call to me,
my beloved

Brother, call to me in the depths of the
night, night as dark as sin.  I might win.
I have no idea, nothing to contemplate.
Where did reason run off to?  I like to run
With the wind blowing my hair back.
It’s simple as this:  I have a boat,
I offered my maiden fair to ride it with me,
she said no,

she was afraid of the wind
And dogs.  There are no dogs in the water, I whisper to her.
There are no dogs anywhere!
My shout was lost in the wind.  The sun glares down.
I can’t see past my forehead,
I can’t see for anything.
I walk away from the boat and go down town.

The Key

The key was in my hand,
I walked through town-
My mind was thrown like a rubber band,
I have called my own.

Dreams are plenty here on earth,
Yet I have seen it for myself,
There goes a flower giving birth,
I hope his baby is in good health.

Old lady, what do you plead,
Your skirt hangs around your knees.
You’re the only one who can lead,
A convention just like these.

Take me higher than a bird,
This place is not for me.
I speak in hushed voices for the word,
I wish to God I were free.

Don’t drown in doubt,
We need to be paying attention now.
I know you can go without,
Another forbidden show.

The Corridor

The corridor was brown and thin,
This was the mess I was in-
Taken by so many glares,
My foot hit the stairs.

The dark was in the dark,
I could barely see-
My lighter lit a single spark,
And it was in front of me.

Take me outside, where it was warm,
The sun is like a hearth.
I have seen through the storm,
I have seen a mother give birth.

Tell me words that are spoken,
The bird has been flying east-
The vase I have broken,
The work was not my best.

The Eyes, Stares

The eye stares at me from a great abyss.

It is neither thin nor glowing.
In time, the eye will stop staring, but for now it is staring-straight at me.

The strange shadows of oneness have come back.  There is nothing that I lack.
Take me outside, and bring yourself into myself like a bitter rose rising from

The ashes.  I am rising.  I find myself glaring back at people.  I don’t like people

As much as animals.  Animals are properly trained-humans are not.  I have begun

My training in the springtime-there’s nothing else for me to do.  I am learning kung fu.

Japan is the place where I have made my home.  I love their food, their music,
And their dance.

What can I show you that won’t make you bothered by me?  What can I show you that will
Bend myself backwards outside of war?  I have helped myself by becoming something other
Than myself, I have become someone else’s property.  There is a sign in my yard, saying
For Smalls.”  I would, but I can’t.  It’s dinnertime anad I’m hungry.  Make me dinner.

Night comes, and I am sleepy.  People target me.  The hole keeps getting bigger, and bigger.
Light flashes in my vision.  I try to sleep.  Sleep will not come.  Help me dream.
In the morning, I take a ride on the train and return back home.

Bleed Me Dry

In London, I found myself huddled in the rain, wishing I were somewhere else-
A dog barks in someone’s yard, and I looked at him, all wide-eyed and wondering.
The cold spread through my body.  My coat was soaked wet,
My hair was matted.

I didn’t know where my home was, or where I was going.  The war had been going on for hours,
And the bitter cold left me shivering-in fear or coldness, I wonder if it’s both.  Time will tell.

Yes, time.  I have learned about time as a little child, sitting on my grandfather’s lap.  He said
I shouldn’t be there, I should be with my family in this time of war-time is a funny thing,
All numbers and circles.  Yes.  Time is hidden inside of me, like a small bird trying to break free.
I don’t understand this parable.  I don’t understand anything unless it is told by my grandfather,
I am but a child, trying to break free.  I never knew anything about metaphors,
I never knew anything about no words.

Sometimes the spectacles of life frighten me like a forbidden object trapped in the sand.  The sand of time.
There’s time again, I can’t find time anymore.  It washed away in the ocean, where the sharks are,
Sharks I am afraid of, just like time and all other things.  Where do I belong?  I don’t know, it hurts
To think about it.  It’s nothing to be ashamed of.  It’s nothing to fear.  I am poor.  The poorness continues
To bleed me dry.  I am going to find a warm place.