Copyright held by the Manhattan Experimental Theater Workshop
View Permission for Production Policy
Written & performed by the company
Directed by the directing team
Under the influence of Gertrude Stein
Why do you stare so? Why do you stare?
Why do you stare so? Why do you stare?
Why do you stare? Why do you stare so?
So
Crack it open
Crack it open
Crack it open
Crack it open
Crack it open again and again
Crawling like an animal missing a necessary appendage. Like crab claws in opposite directions Simultaneously. I am to cry like a fire. Shoe sloth on horse.
Sharp sharp sour sauce and sweetness.
Make me expand. Mooovvveeeemmmeeenttt and flow. Hard work of shape, I learned.
Sweetness sour sauce and sharp sharp.
A dagger to a painting.
Sharp sharp sour sauce and sweetness.
Scream like an elephant. Aggravated by changes my voice was waiting to crow I will cry once.
Clear my mind like an overturned bookshelf. Worming my way through the dirty floor. I am a slinky.
Sharp sharp sour sauce and sweetness
Explode like a whale breaching, like a warm blanket, quick quick or you are lost. Defensive shell in parabolic paths. Dreaming for the better was never the worser. Why do you stare so? It lacks appropriations. A huge squeaky squish.
The watchers will be watchful. The flutist is decidedly Mormon. But cream of wheat doesn’t care.
Displacement, puppet, fairy. Weep bitterly. Sorrow brings morticians. His feet were not his own.
Whales. Whales eating wood..Whales eating wooden people. Lying son. Marvels some. Wooden tears. So hard, not peeled. African swallows, a widow, a wig.In this room for one hundred years.
But somehow I can’t today. A donkey, a whale, a cricket. Just a common block. Who died of grief. His feet were not his own. A wooden head, enslaved. Without warning. Give a little whistle.
But somehow I can’t today. A glass of milk, a star, a rope. But somehow I can’t. Just a common block of wood. Someone has eaten my feet. You are lost alone in an ocean. Merely perception a trip for nothing. Eating wooden people. Timber will be flesh. But somehow boyness, snails, strings. Antonio, A donkey, a dog. A piece of filled. Merely a perception. A dozen leaps and bounds. Be your guide. Figaro, a Father, a Friend. Hammer, saws, pencils, flowers. Confusion, shock, elation. Alone in the ocean.
I am light and sourish. Warning: you have a weak stomach. Love the smell of laws of physics. Ocean in the strangest places. Vomit with the purest form.
Discombobulated.
Asking them to see. Convulsions to squirm and ponder. Never seen such burning acts.
Slink behind buildings like a wind tunnel. I want to make them bleed.
The critics will be critical and the watchers will be watchful.
Foregone, the moon, the sun, the stratosphere.
Eyes popped put of his head. No one lives all are dead.
The play, the play, we want the play.
Fanfare for their search my room for drugs and get me to a nunnery.
Walk away and cry for hours.
Buy a pineapple.
Kill everyone you know from the horror fantastic
Sublime silence.
Bugs milk a blinking marrowsong. Thorny, and brazen is beautiful. Sick milk. Dust bunnies carry bumbershoots in case of a sprinkle of maple syrup.
Just. Just sat. Voluptuous melons often take measures to catastrophic proportions.
Explode like breaching. Globe with a single breath. Mephistophelian napkins lurk under the ambulance factory. Wooden tears. Happy to be scones.
A pickle because a slippery egg. A croissant. A crumpet. A birthday cake. Socks are grossly ashen on Tuesday. Me of being a bug.
A jigsaw and a sander. Dipthong was tremendous and toppled.
Absolute blackness often crashes the sun. Crystal well. Quintuplets slobber puddles of.
Whale eating.
Whale eating wood.
Whale eating wooden people.
Loss of strings. Wigs and things, lies, hats, wood.
Timber will be flesh.
I.
I am to.
I am to cry like a.
I am to cry like a fire.
