Hellzapoppin. All theater all the time. Between the fabulously relentless Fertile Ground Festival, which is resplendent with exciting new playwriting, plus the two shows running at PCS right now plus the normal business of the theater, I am, to quote the eminently quotable Joni Mitchell, “living on nerves and feelings.” Yes, the rest of that song applies, too.
And that’s my excuse for being an intermittent blogger as of late. In lieu of something more topical, please accept this thunderously unassuming little poem, penned by – surprise! – our friend Franz. Kafka. Ya, the original Mr. K. himself. Thank you, Patrick Tangredi, for sharing this with me.
You don't need to leave your room.
Remain sitting at your table and listen.
Don't even listen, simply wait.
Don't even wait.
Be quiet, still and solitary.
The world will freely offer itself to you,
to be unmasked, it has no choice.
It will roll in ecstasy at your feet.