Canceled

Put the best spin on it.
What else can a risk taker do?
I am not equipped to accept defeat.
Like some general with the right battle plan,
I must flatten any obstacles in my way
for I cannot stand to be inconsequential.

For one so full of himself, packed to the
very top with a sense of the swath he cuts,
inconsequence is a death sentence.
Remember, What if we had a war and no one came?
I hate war as much as I love theatre; both are
cooperative endeavors.

Someone must come to the field to be defeated
in order to have victory. Someone must show up
at the playhouse in order to reap the playwright’s
imagination. What if we put on a play and no one
comes? It’s the death knell to consequence,
enough to flatten vanity.

The show must go on; there can be no other
choice, as if it is decreed by God. Sorry.
No audience, no show. This cannot be
our fate without serious root rot, without
the feeling of ignominy. Generals and
directors must have their triumphs.

Oh, to be normal and think in terms of
life without fanfare, like Buddhists who have
reached Nirvana, the state of grace where desire
for consequence has been eclipsed by a
lasting tranquillity.

But no. Not this driven soul, hell-bent
for the spotlight. Someone, quick tell me
I have done well, been artful, have held the
world up in a new light and will be remembered.
Anesthetize me from the canceled performance.
I cannot breathe. It must be someone else’s fault.

Friday Night, 8/29/03