biding my time

i'm not to crazy about this night, this show, this week to come.
i hear the sound of a suture closing, but i'm still scratching,
trying to make the trying less trying.

if there were more time - and less words - pehaps i could better impart how it feels to be sitting backstage tonight with the rattling Caribbean sounds of a hundred steel drums colliding into my own stone wall of apathy. nine years ago i walked away from a career that would have sent me to Japan, to Europe, to Buenos Aires - but it would have been the same theater no matter where i went. i've spent the past two years tying up loose ends and frayed knots...

this particular karma, perhaps, is nearly complete.