Today's Prompt: write a poem with long lines, ones that extend beyond the normal length.
An as this week is my post show crash from Macbeth, Dear Readers, you get another Macbeth, theatre related poem.
Theatrical Tempest
When the days begin to blur together in a mass of exposition
And I can hardly tell what day it is anymore,
I know that hell week has thusly descended into madness--
And the audience breaths, so I will I, hitting the stage.
It’s a marvel that everything is contained in one small
space,
With costumes, props and, and set pieces whirling in common
time.
When I am all but out of breath from chanting or sword
fighting,
It’s what we do for our art, breathing to life something new
Something wasn’t didn’t exist before today.
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