(Metromaniacs, Shakespeare Theatre, 20 March 2015)


Act One:  we’re who

we dream to be.  New guises

multiply like light

beneath a dappled tree,

a hall of mirrors as the plot

unwinds.  Is seeming real?

I can’t make up

my mind.


Act Two:  complexities

abound as mis-reads cue

the story line.  A valet passes

for a lord, while true hearts

stumble down blind alleyways.

But which is which?  It’s hard

to tell.  I can’t make up

my mind.


Finale:  all’s made

amply clear.  Pretense reversed,

each hero gets his girl.

The mask of laughter trumps

the mask of pain.  Yet which

is which? – they’re intertwined.

Identity’s a slippery web,

a glimmer hanging by a hair;


who knows what weaver

tied what knot?

We can’t make up

our mind.

From Poets Are Present:  An Anthology  (Shakespeare Theatre Company, May 2015)