Late Nights

Dust, that thick perfume of
pine and fiberboard which clogs
my pores, fills my nostrils and
mixes into a paste with my sweat,
now circulates the room at roughly
one hundred thousand parts per million.

Four A.M. is no time for power tools.

Low Rumbling, Plastic Ivy and Eggo Waffles

They grumble and stomp their feet
demanding word -- a few lines
posted on a painted nail,
parchment flapping in the venting breeze;
a rope dangles from a beam,
looped above a lantern, an old woman,
an elephant and a coffin --
any sign of life.

Will this do?

The hours flash past,
each day melts into the next
with only enough time in between
to unwrap the black from my back
and fall unceremoniously onto cotton sheets
before the sparrows call me out again.

I am lost.
Is it Tuesday already?

The valley fills with purple clouds
and electricity bends like a rainbow
over the horizon,
tapping its toe on either side of the ridge.
Paper lanterns hang precariously in the periphery,
but they do not move. Not one inch.

The heat slips off into the shadows;
even it is getting more sleep than I.

C'est la vie, they say,
and they are absolutely right.
Who am I to raise my voice? My cries
echo into a nest of ants
scurrying here and there with their wares;
I speculate on the odds of one
hitting his head on a chandelier.
The space is getting smaller.

Did we change the world in under an hour?
The champagne still buzzes around my head,
a pesky fly I cannot wave away.
Or maybe it's the sugar. Who can tell?

I never got my sandwich.
It's a comment on something, I'm sure.

Still,
he waits patiently for her to call.
After all, chocolate kisses are the best.

In the meantime,
the twenty-five cent alarm clock beckons.
Here's hoping it still works.

---

Post script:

Alas. It does not.
It spins quietly, but emits only static.
I suppose one gets what one pays for.

Things I Learned At Work Today

1. Despite my predictions, it is, in fact, possible to work a 14-hour day, stay up late drinking, get 4 hours sleep, and then wake up at 8am to repeat the process.

2. It is harder to focus stage lights when you are dangling upside-down from an I-beam harnessed into the high steel than you would think.

3. Meta-Algebra:
a. 2x4 + 2x4 + 2x4 + 2x4 = Platform framing.
b. Holding 2x4 in place + Nail gun = Helpful and efficient.
c. Nail gun + My thumb = Lots of blood + Light-headedness.
d. My thumb + Hospital staff + Tetanus shot = Crabby nurse.
e. Tetanus shot + No stitches + No bone contact + Workman's Comp = VERY, VERY LUCKY.

4. People are cynical and sarcastic when they think you injured yourself. People are much nicer when they learn that someone else did it to you.


------- EDIT: -------

5. When people who have just met you accidentally shoot you through the thumb with a nail gun and watch you bleed all over the shop floor, they will make you wonderful trophies, (even if they don't yet know your last name).

PSF

A brief note:

For those that didn't know, I will be leaving in just under 6 hours to begin my summer internship at the Pennsylvania Shakespeare Festival at DeSales University.

For the next twelve (12) weeks, I will undertake all the duties of the "swing intern," which, as I understand, means I will be the production manager's bitch for the summer. Which is fine by me -- I haven't had an honest day's work in a long time, and this will be a great way for me to get my foot in the door and make some connections within the theater world. Hooray.

This also means I will be living at DeSales U until Aug. 6. In a dorm room. Possibly with a roommate. If I have one, my challenge for myself will be to see how much like Freshman year at VC I can make this experience. Mainly, I will try to get the roommate to move out after six weeks. If I find him doing lines of coke off my desk, I'll know I'm almost there.

Don't worry. I'll have my computer and phone, so I won't be entirely dead to the world. But I will be living on theater time -- very much like my life at VC, except I won't have the periodic nap-times throughout the day that were my classes.

Anyway. It starts.