Last Acting Job (Day 23)

All I have to do
is to start telling you
and I am back there again
head in my hands
looking blankly at the floor.

Listening to the audience
as they laugh and hoot
before the lights swoops over
them like a intergution light
on a tranced voyage.

Listening to the rain
move like footprints
and the course giggling
of Frank as he whispered
'Are you ready yet?'

Of course I wasn't
but I couldn't tell him that.

I couldn't tell him
why my head felt like
an out-take of the Scream
and why my wig never
felt level
and my eye liner
and make up
felt like disscolving acid.

I couldn't tell you
about my broken finger nails
and ripped out eyelashes
as well as my worn out boots.

You saw the half drunk bottle
of Whiskey thou.




(Day 23 of NaPoWriMo asked for 'oday, I challenge you to write an ekphrastic poem — that is, a poem that responds to or is otherwise inspired by a work of art. Probably the most famous ekphrastic poem in English is Keats’ Ode on a Grecian Urn, but there is no lack of modern ekphrastic work. Take Auden’s Musee de Beaux Arts or Robert Lowell’s For the Union Dead. So go forth and find a painting, sculpture, photograph, or even a piece of music, and use it to inform your poem for today. Art creates art — it’s so efficient!' I err.. reflected on the reason I packed
in being a actor many years - enjoy - lol)