Experience gives us the hands
for applause to render appropriately.
Emotions are always awaiting
permission to appear
in the story presented.
Attention has us say our lines
as if the script
tells us our truth.
The stage is some distance away
from every one,
some of the time
but we are seated
as near as we need to be.
Exterior reality is as a wardrobe
as we anticipate walk on roles.
Audience as a life style
becomes its own extended stage
of self as seduction.
We imagine an intimacy
that is hard to fulfill.
Symbolic actions come easier
and log in adequately
to account
for more than they are.
We are disenfranchised
as if origin is only a recital.
We make the best
as we can
from an internal keyboard
missing essential letters
to state our beings.
Audience as a life style
is the substitute,
much like longingly staring,
though unknowingly,
at the murky surface
of an otherwise hearty
alphabet soup . . .
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