They never leave. Dress rehearsal in an hour. The stage is the cage where dreams battle to become more ludicrous than you. We received our lines for the day backstage. The band sat up awaiting direction. Tickets sold. The lights came down. The curtains were drawn. Makeup people, costume people, stage craft, management, all took bows. Where were the actors? Security let us in the backdoor. She played the recluse in Shakespeare’s Recluse. Behind closed doors the curtains came down. The band played their hearts out. The dancers? Where were the dancers? In times like these we stand together and sing as one. In the old days no one left, no one ever got stuck in traffic. Today, all the world is a freeway, the actors commute. Actors, dancers, you need to declare once and for all, recluse yourself, never leave.
The Rise of Inkman, Super Hero Action Poet
Who ya gonna call? In times of great peril and need, when all else fails a hero appears. They always do. Great nations need great heroes. Enter Inkman, he always leaves his mark. I’m playing with invisible ink for my costume. Here’s the thing with Inkman, he can write in any super powers he wants, or write over them. Don’t mess with Inkman. He can even write a power for you so you can be an Inkman, or an Inkwoman, too. Think Ink. He’s the ink in think. He looks good on paper for an old guy, but under the hood he’s still running on original parts. He’s good to look at, like a restored wreck he shows well. And, he may run forever, too. Who knows? He writes the story. Power of the pen. He’s Inkman. Only art survives.
Al Simmons lives on the Island of Alameda off the coast from Oakland, California. He has recently appeared in Forage, Your Impossible Voice, Creating Chaos, Echo Literary Review, Placeholder Magazine, Blue River Review, Ariel Chart, Peacock Review, Peacock Review Anthology, Vol. II., Little Red Tree Press, and Alcyone, a Magazine of Speculative Fiction. Follow him at summonsink.blogspot.com.
Show Al some love via PayPal at alsimmons(at)sbcglobal(dot)net.