A Play
by
Robert Harders
1740 Burnell Drive
Los Angeles CA 90065
(323) 221-6284
Rharders@aol.com
BOLT'S DREAM
by Robert Harders
Scene 1
(# sits at the side of the road. A trumpet fanfare announces an approaching car. # stands and puts out his thumb, hitching. & enters and puts out his thumb, competing for the ride. # repositions himself to regain the advantage for the ride. Then & repositions himself. As the two begin pushing and shoving each other, the car approaches and speeds past. They're both disappointed.)
&: Did you have to warp the frugal goose of epiphany?
#: Your attendance unshelves my heartburn, sparrow. Squat over my bullfinch and sing. Better yet, blow through tomorrow and depress me Thursday.
&: Follow at a safe distance; you're leaking into my air.
#: Once, I pedaled to the eyesore to loosen the cap and splash in the pits. Once I choked on the seeds of posterity and swallowed greenly amidst the arid markets. Now I flout the bellows of a tall offspring. Muzzle my soaps and we will pop the top alone. Undulate only if you must.
&: Revitalize.
#: You juicers sneak a furious groan through the tunnel.
&: Count the tables again. Unfold the crossroads and confiscate the fires, tackling bungalows and butterfly patterns alike. Migrate. Clean out my trousers and I won't dissemble.
(Trumpet fanfare announcing the approach of a car. They jump to the edge of the road, jockey for position, and stick out thumbs. A car speeds past. They're both disappointed. Scene 2 continues without break.)
Scene 2
&: I will fault this bloodless millennium. There is no milk to poop nor poetry to ply. Seriously. Replace the plum. Rot the veneer. Till then I'll gargle nasty phlegm.
#: Popularize the semi-transparent myth. Till then pish.
&: Retire and mourn. Let the rhino pull the rickshaw.
#: Retaliation? All is marshmallow.
&: Bluster rearm. The focus of contempt stumbles and strains to stand and bite. Rehash this jumble and I'll puke. My guts are burning.
#: My bath is dry.
&: Let's expand the page.
#: Disparity leads to clarity.
&: Unleash and spill or cork the logic.
#: Enemies prowl the aisles.
&: Fut.
#: Your loving madrigals ungown while spies surround.
&: Grrr.
#: My essential enzymes mix. Emotion.
&: Seedy sentiment.
#: Let action sedate the need.
&: Stand back embarrassing belcher. My sense of smell is a liability in this presence. Untimely meeting in an unventilated world.
#: Swaggering slime, I pee on your mousy creed. Intumescent stink pot. I'll clip your tail and cram baloney down your craw.
(They draw swords and fight)
&: I am death's midwife come to deliver you.
#: The middle will rape your remains.
&: They will chew for a night to get me down.
#: Swing and fall. Fall and die. I spit cankers into your crowded mouth.
&: Ugliness on the rocks. Your rare concert is cancelled. Feel my edge.
(He stabs him)
#: I cough blood and spew into empty racks. I bear down and squeeze my underpants. There I am. (to himself) Whine and surrender, imitator. Fall and forget you were once high. There is no love in burning shacks. In sinking ships. Crouch and crawl under whispered promises. Broken, decomposed flesh.
&: No more. Repent.
#: Bitter pill disgorge. You are my vomit. Now join me.
(He fights on)
&: Bite yourself and surrender. You were bought and sold. Rupture and collapse.
(He stabs him again)
#: Scrub me in serene chaos. But save my meat from a scruffy peace.
&: Your day is spoiled. Now sputter out.
#: I sneeze on your crotch.
(He dies)
&: Ghosts ignore you. Unite with nothing. Sound the truce on the trombone. This venting was not in vain. I have struggled with the zipper; the trophy still falls up. I have squeezed the clapstick dry. Now, to ride the glow into tomorrow.
(Trumpet fanfare announces an approaching car. He puts out his thumb. Car breaks to a stop some distance past him. He runs to get in.)
The End