Monday, August 21, 2006

Möbius Script: Actor, Dream, Epiphany

It seems to happen every time... a dozen fortnights down the line
emptiness where there was once exuberance...
How did the joy escape? asks the actor. Where is the drain through which it seeped?
A hollow wondering at bonds that fray and binds that fade
yet again again, a script repeated
Slow collapse in upon itself; spent vessel wheezes to a halt.

How does a dream paint this picture?

the miserable matted cat
skulks along the wall
slips through cracked door
down descending silent
to the gray cellar
crawls into the shadows
under skewed stairs
curls up
and waits
for final minutes to pass
out of sight, unnoticed
nobody’s burden

This is the way it always ends, the ties that’d bound, unravel
A piece inside the actor dies, as does the dream’s animal
‘This must stand for something,’ the actor sweats, fretting over the Rules of Metaphor.
Which part withers and why?
That part inside the actor
It is a part and it is the whole
It is the actor’s part and he

[V.O.: Synecdoche epiphany]

Like General Black finally sees himself
both bull and matador
the actor’s cat is just as much
his heart as much himself

“The dream...
”The dream...
”The matador... ...”