All right.
Thank you so much for that beautiful introduction.
And thank you all for being here.
And thank you, Poetry Center, for bringing me here.
And thanks to all the other readers and artists
who have been feeding me.
And I'm sure many--
all of us here said, if we're not going to get chewy food,
we can just get brain food.
All right, so this is billed as a reading and a talk.
And so I'm going to move sort of between
the different modalities.
It will be very willy-nilly and pell-mell, perhaps.
But I'm also going to try to save a little bit of time
at the end for questions, which is also
a nice way to kind of move into a more talky sort of approach.
But I'm going to begin with some cheerful poems about, well,
miscarriages.
"The miscarriage-- a magic trick.
Get a planted volunteer from the audience,
a woman with a large ball of red yarn under her dress.
Lay the woman on your magician's table.
Spread a sheet over her.
Misdirect the audience with patter.
Reach secretly between the woman's legs
and grab the yarns loose end.
Pull until it all trails down the table, piling on the floor.
Presto!
The miscarriage, a radio play, sound effect, rushing liquid.
Woman's voice-- now, now, little darling.
Don't spill over mommy and daddy's sheets.
Studio audience-- [VOCALIZING]
The miscarriage, a silent film.
Exterior, 4:30 AM.
A river, medium shot.
Baby and a hamper bulrushes down a red river
toward frame's edge.
Effects note-- use wanted sheets in hamper for baby.
Production note-- to be shot in black and white.
Red should be described in title card reading, title
card, Herrell on the Red river!
Wide shot-- a car races along the riverside.
Interior-- car.
Medium shot-- a husband and wife.
Husband drives, speeding, chasing baby.
Wife concentrates.
Eyes clenched, shut in prayer, hands on midsection.
Title car-- will they make it in time?
Exterior, 4:35 AM, a waterfall.
The miscarriage-- an approved list
of 10 euphemisms for use in onstage banter.
One-- foxes rob the coop.
Two-- God mark your draft.
Three-- cherries dam the flume.
Four-- a kite crashed in April.
Five-- an apple fell in the nest.
Six-- red ants raided the sugar bowl.
Seven-- radio flyer, but we just saw the heartbeat hedge.
Eight-- four alarm three days ago
and next week, doll factory.
Nine-- it's Father's Day.
Roses instead of cabbage.
10-- seminal fled the field.
The miscarriage-- a minstrel show.
The interlocutor shuffled off stage to riotous applause
before the resplendent curtain, deep scarlet velvet,
zip coon entered in a mismatched and outlandishly patch pajamas.
The delighted audience had but an instant
to reckon his zany appearance before [INAUDIBLE]
in a nightgown with a watermelon slice
painted where her privates would go
hobbled in like a woman desperate to make water.
They face the gasping assembled house, close their eyes
and started into grand snoring.
With the crowd quieted, topsy, as damn near damn,
woke first, already shaking her gloved fist
at zip as father Toby.
[SNORES]
Husband!
Peel your peepers [? of they ?] sandgrits
intermediately, says me your beloved.
I hear it's not a cockcrow but a crowcrow.
Mutant done broke, not water, but coffee.
Listen, my darkling, ain't I tell you not to consummeat
melon in our pallet?
Consummeat?
Present tense of consummate.
Ah, but smudgy poo, iffin I makes to eat Sweet Georgia
ham, antatomically speaking, musn't my palate give him some?
Look at here, smoke screen, that shit
I'm talking about just watermelon juice spilt
in between and between my gams.
Sheets pinked to glory.
Dinner, I ain't red-handed.
You's red gamded.
T'ain't melonade if I ain't kneeled in it.
Besides, I ain't seen no seeds down yonder.
Hog, hog slop, and hog slop head,too.
They makes Georgia ham seedless now.
The stain is the thing.
Seedless, then alas, I guess Ise undoed.
And Ise undid my cast iron skillet.
They cake walked off into darkness.
In the wings can be heard the sound of bones.
The miscarriage-- a bar joke.
Pear pals walk into a bar.
The first says, yo, pal, why are you so down?
The second replies, my wife had a miscarriage.
First guy says, I know exactly how you feel.
I just had my girl get an abortion.
Before the second guy can speak, a Reverend, a rabbi,
and priest barge in, hollering, get the fuck out
of our junk, assholes!
[LAUGHTER]