charles mee

the (re)making project

The Plays

A Walk in the Park [sample]

by Charles L. Mee

To Full Text

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men in baseball caps and T shirts with Brooklyn on them
rain down slowly from the sky

men in baseball caps and T shirts with Brooklyn on them
men in baseball caps and T shirts with Brooklyn on them
men in baseball caps and T shirts with Brooklyn on them
men in baseball caps and T shirts with Brooklyn on them
men in baseball caps and T shirts with Brooklyn on them
men in baseball caps and T shirts with Brooklyn on them
men in baseball caps and T shirts with Brooklyn on them
men in baseball caps and T shirts with Brooklyn on them
men in baseball caps and T shirts with Brooklyn on them
men in baseball caps and T shirts with Brooklyn on them
men in baseball caps and T shirts with Brooklyn on them

rain down slowly from the sky
rain down slowly from the sky
rain down slowly from the sky
rain down slowly from the sky
rain down slowly from the sky
rain down slowly from the sky
rain down slowly from the sky
rain down slowly from the sky
rain down slowly from the sky
rain down slowly from the sky
rain down slowly from the sky

in the late afternoon sky—
either in fact,
or in paper cutouts,
or small dolls,
or in film projection on the back wall
[if small dolls or cutouts, they remain suspended in midair?]

a guy in a baseball cap
identical to all the men who descended from the flies,
appears—
we're not sure whether he came down from the flies
or stepped out the café door to join his friends
while we weren't looking.
He takes off his hat before he begins to speak—
or, it may be,
if he has descended from the flies with the other men in baseball caps
that he has been saying this—
a piece of Kurt Schwitters's sound poem Ursonate—
as he has fallen from the sky.]

BASEBALL CAP GUY
Tatta tatta tuiEe tuEe
Tatta tatta tuiEe tuEe
Tatta tatta tuiEe tuEe
Tatta tatta tuiEe tuEe
Tilla lalla tilla lalla
Tilla lalla tilla lalla
Tilla lalla tilla lalla
Tilla lalla tilla lalla
Tuii tuii tuii tuii
Tuii tuii tuii tuii
Tee tee tee tee
Tee tee tee tee
Tuii tuii tuii tuii
Tuii tuii tuii tuii
Tee tee tee tee
Tee tee tee tee
Tatta tatta tuiEe tuEe
Tatta tatta tuiEe tuEe
Tatta tatta tuiEe tuEe
Tatta tatta tuiEe tuEe
Tilla lalla tilla lalla
Tilla lalla tilla lalla
Tilla lalla tilla lalla
Tilla lalla tilla lalla
Tuii tuii tuii tuii
Tuii tuii tuii tuii
Tee tee tee tee
Tee tee tee tee
Tuii tuii tuii tuii
Tuii tuii tuii tuii
Tee tee tee tee
Tee tee tee tee

[A nude woman enters,
holding a painting of a nude in front of her body,
and the painting has her body facing the opposite direction
from the way she is facing.

She speaks.]

NUDE
There are many kinds of men
and many kinds of women
and each kind of them
have a different feeling in them
about the baby that was once all them.
There are many kinds of men and many kinds of women
and there are many millions made of each kind of them.
Each one of the many millions of each kind of them
have it in them a little
to be different from all the other millions of their kind of them,
but all of each kind of them
have it in them to have the same kind of feeling
about the little thing that was once all them,
about the little things that come to a beginning through them,
about the little things beginning all around them.
There are many kinds of men and many kinds of women.

There are some
when they feel it inside them
that it has been with them
that there was once so very little of them,
that they were a baby,
helpless and no conscious feeling in them,
that they knew nothing then
when they were kissed and dandled
and fixed by others who knew them
when they could know nothing inside them or around them,
some get from all this
that once surely happened to them
to that which was then every bit that was then them,
there are some when they feel it later inside them
that they were such once and that was all that there was then of them,
there are some who have from such a knowing
an uncertain curious kind of feeling in them
that their having been so little once and knowing nothing
makes it all a broken world for them that they have inside them,
kills for them the everlasting feeling;
and they spend their life in many ways,
and always they are trying to make for themselves a new everlasting feeling.

[Circus acts:
a cluster of them.

First, the contortionist comes out again and does his piece.
And then the others follow one by one
until they are all performing at the same time.

Not just clowns,
though clowns might well be included,
but mostly amazing, stunning, unbelievable things,
the sort of things unicyclists can do
and gymnasts,
things that people gladly would pay admission to see.

For instance, here are hundreds of such acts:
http://www.talents-productions.com/agence-artistique_evenementiel_artistic-agency/index.php

Or else, not circus acts,
but some other stunning pieces of physical theatre.

And then,
a giant rock or boulder falls slowly against a cumulus cloud sky,
followed by a dozen more boulders,
or perhaps 40 huge pieces of building cornice
either as video projections
or as real objects.

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