Plant yourself against the earth,
push your eyes deep into the sky.
It has been Friday forever—
bits and pieces chewed,
the unity of bark and bite
your blocking upon the boards,
cast by feckless fate and
archetype (the role your costume fit).
It has been winter so long
your branches bow,
the cold weight of your crown
coming down, the heavy curtains and
the flats on the fly—
in doubt and sorrow and fury
you play your part. More’s the pity,
such is life, aiming for the cheap seats
your voice fills your boot and
your back, strong from your belly,
unfurling from your spine,
the thunder you have wrung
stem to stern, bellows to
the burn, spat lightning and
eaten scenery, sad to have at last
gotten a laugh after learning
dying is so much harder.
