extract, including song, from an abandoned play

A country lane. 3 boys sit by and on a wooden fence. 2 whistle. 1 sings;

Marvin (along with the guys' whistling tune). Oh what a day for daydream
What a day for a daydream, oh boy
You can dance by barbed wire
You could fall down and broken your button nose
A trickle of love songs will drip down onto your blouse
Before your heart's break by kisses from all the sad clowns
Oh, it's the loneliest Saturday night.

The circus is in town.

Peeking

The sun is shining and it is HOT.

Shot of man's eyes looking at something directly in front of him. They are pained, tears well up to the point of running down his face. A woman is talking to him, pleading as the camera zooms out into a shot of his whole face and the top of his shoulders..

Molly. Stop peeking please. Come on, don't just sit staring Fats, just give me a bit of privacy for once and respect my wishes.

From the shot we can now see that there is a trail of smoke rising above the man's left shoulder. He is in a restrained agony.

Molly. I don't peek with you, do I. Stop being a funny guy Fats, don't be scum.

He puts his right hand above his right eye, dropping something when it is covering his eye.

Cut to: Shot of magnifying glass smashing on the floor.

Cut back: Man holding his right hand over his right eye.

Molly. That's better... Hey! Don't be sneaky! The other 'and 'nd all.

He puts his left hand above his left eye. There has been a hole burned into it, so that it goes all the way through his hand. He looks through the hole in his hand. There is a gasp.

Molly. You bastard. You always have to peek!

We hear the sound of a door slamming as she presumably leaves.

Fats. (to us) You should see her when she cries.

We continue this shot with his hands over the eyes for a while.

Cut to: Man's POV, through the hole in his hand. The television is on, to the left of the shot where the camera would have originally been located, it shows a Man covering his eyes with his hands.

Blackbird

Sarah. So, yeah, he's just had a child with that black bird.

Hope. A blackbird?

Sarah. It's funny 'ent it.

Hope. A blackbird, really. Are you being serious?

Sarah. Yeah, last week.

Hope. Well I'll be. Miracles never cease.

Sarah. I know. I didn't know they were his type either.

Tautological Poems 1 & 2

1

when ya drink ya drink

when ya eat ya eat

2

when ya piss ya piss
when ya shit ya shit

Chris's letter to Santa

life(1)

my lif's a misprint
my life's a four letter word suffixed into five

----------
(1) my life's a footnote to everything else, like the weather in Winter or Spring

Curriculum Vitae

What more do they want?

as Ginsberg said to America, I say to Britain, 'I'm sick of your insane demands'