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(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)

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