416. ORIENTALE

ORIENTALE
Two hands on the burning log; a sudden pang
of pain, fearsome sizzle, and a sudden scream.
Like that in a dream; but with the endless sky
above and the open heart of a peaceful dove
dropping down to bless the scene - this was
some Japanese theater, brought forth by kids,
fifteen year-olds anyway. The Shibanu Theater
Academy, with red velvet seats just like long ago.
On Avenue B. Something like that, dear and royal
to memory. Emperor. Great Lord of Sky.
-
I entered after paying three dollars, and sat down.
Watching what transpired, what was presented,

I confused more than myself in merely interpreting
what I saw. It was all spectacle. A great mime of
eastern theater entitled 'The Horror Imagination'.

I was in awe of what I saw. I was enamored

of the cast. I hoped it would never end.
I wanted it to last.