Conversation in a Bar Off-Broadway They tell me I’m musical, But trust me here, I don’t sing. There’s magic in my hands, But my wand doesn’t wave at the band, It doesn’t bleed, and it doesn’t speak, It just writes. There’s a spectacle in my head, I’ve been dreaming of it for decades now, Like a ballet/Broadway style musical hybrid thing, This big, beautiful disaster kind of show, A real event, like that Spider-man musical those idiots made, But with this whole personal, universal story holding it up, Kind of thing everyone can relate to. It’s the story of a little kid trying to win his dad’s respect, Only he’s this little demon kid, with bat ears and massive black eyes, Like, there’s this huge song and dance number that’ll bring you to tears You think Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings movies had backstory? We’ll get the stage lights to shine blue, it’ll be like freaking heaven, And there will be burning angels falling in complicated spirals We’ll have Adele or someone singing all mournful over harp music While these demon brute guys twirl and leap around the stage, They’ll be these baroque singers, and they’ll get louder and louder ‘till that harp is drowned out and the blue lights’ll turn all red and black, And then WHAM! Scene transition! Back to our little demon hero! He’s sword fighting his dad in a castle, And he’s backstabbed by his best friend, and as he’s dying his dad and His mentor reveal that they betrayed him, set him up as a martyr, and We’ll actually throw him to the audience, All covered in glitz and fake blood, and Then our female lead will come out this trap door that we’ll build right in the aisle, She’ll be this cute innocent thing called The Mosquito Queen And she’ll have this like spotlight on her as she sings, And then all those burning angels’ll show up again, and they’ll be harmonizing, singing in this like Perfectly tuned trancelike thing, And he’ll wake up, right, and I forgot, he’s a little bat demon, But get this, he was born WITHOUT WINGS! And like, the Mosquito Queen, she gives him a second shot at life, Y’know she wants to be avenged, And our hero, we’ve got this little kid on stage playing him now, And it’s like he’s with the audience in the aisle, Seeing his entire life playing out before him, And he sees the life he lost, this little kid looking up to his dad While the world burned and suffered, Sees him crying without knowing why, It’s like he’s been living on the margins of every day, Accomplishing nothing and not ever mattering, And now he gets it, dude, It’s, fuck, the word, Catharsis, And as those dead angels start singing again, These big black batwings burst from his back, And he fucking flies! It’ll be the most epic thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life, And he’ll meet his father, And he’ll say something like, “I’ll never be like you,” Or “I’m above your judgement now,” Or something And then he’ll die, or fly into the moonlight Or something, And then curtains; I could write it, I’ve got the whole thing in front of me, It’s like a ghost in my bones, Always got something to add. Bio: Daniel Sokoloff is a poet from Philadelphia. When not writing or walking one of his lizards, he enjoys stargazing and speeding down I-95. He graduated from Temple University, and is writing his chap book, “Dream of the Ash”, a meditation on his connection with the Norse god, Odin.
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