Performances

Upcoming Performances

EQUIS Festibal de Cine Feminista de Ecuador
Deconstructing Ourselves to Build Characters that Break Boundaries
(Writing Workshop on November 30th, 2019)

See Past Performances Here!

Featured post

Why Hello There

It seems that you have stumbled upon this site, for which I have no answer as to why you are here. All I have for you are more questions. Questions upon questions upon questions. So, if you don’t want to think, or you expect some kind of answer, then run little one. Run very quickly away. For this is not the place for you, and you have stumbled into an ever expanding mind with no foreseeable exit.

Featured post

They Call It Training

medically diagnosed
non-organic failure to survive
good faith
and “more likely than necessary.”

Purposeful repeated misuse of
pronouns is a form of sexual harassment

buy-in from the top
right to sue
pluralistic ignorance
delayed documents and delegation strategies.
They call it mandatory training.

“Back in 20”

These fuckers ain’t coming back. I’m sure they will. Nah, they bounced. They definitely skipped out and are not coming back. Okay, if they were, then why would they leave a note? Maybe to seem like they weren’t skipping out? But they definitely just dined and dashed. What if they went to the bathroom or stepped out to smoke? The bathroom? For twenty minutes? Umm well … Okay, not likely, but fuck it! I’ll go check. Hello? Hello?! If you’re taking a shit, pinch it and finish. Come on now. Hello?! See? Nobody. We’re the only ones here except Stoner Chef Jeff, who I think is passed out in the back. Right, see? So, where the fuck are they? They only ordered two waters and a plate of fries to split between them. Who splits fries? And who orders tap water without ice? Psychopaths. They are probably psychopaths or maybe hitmen. Hitpeople? Assassins. Some of the first assassins were women you know. Yeah. But were they? I didn’t get a good luck admittedly, and I’m normally pretty good at remembering people’s faces. Strange that I can’t seem to remember what they looked like. Let me think. I think one of them was wearing a hat. What kind of hat? What do you mean? A hat? Yeah. But what kind of hat? There are tons of different kinds of hats. Baseball hats, fedoras, beanies, sombreros – You think I wouldn’t remember if one of them was wearing a damn sombrero?! Well Mind-Like-A-Trap, you also can’t seem to remember what they looked like so. Oh, shut it! It was a baseball hat. Definitely a baseball hat because it had one of those, those, those … Who are you saluting there comrade? Shut up! You know, this thing that comes out of the forehead part. Nothing grows out of our forehead part unless you got a set of horns under those bangs. Damnit, the hat. Oh, you mean the bill? No that’s what customers ask for when they want to pay. Yes and it’s also the part of the hat that sticks out to block the sun. It’s called a bill, like a duck bill. Ducks don’t have bills to pay. Oh my god, the duck’s mouth is called a bill and so is that part of the hat. Gotcha! Well it was a baseball hat because it had a bill. Okay and what color was it? Oh shit, I, I don’t remember. What do you mean you can’t remember? This is important. Why is this so important? Because it’s all we got. You can’t remember what they look like. I didn’t get a good look at them from behind the counter, and what if something horrible happened and we’re the last ones that saw them alive. Or worse, what if they are on a murderous cross-country trip, and we are the ones that they let go and we have to identify them in a line-up. Our testimony could be the key to putting them behind bars, but I don’t think I could do it. I mean, what if they break out, which they most likely will, and then come after me for ratting them out. Why do you assume they are murderous villains? What if they were victims or fleeing captivity. What if it’s a romantic love story and they were never going to receive their parent’s blessings, so they left. They eloped and left a romantic note behind, and we are a part of their love story. They’ll return here depending on us to hold their table. Oh, come on! This ain’t no fucking movie, and you know real life is way stranger than any movie. Okay so what’s a movie plot that we haven’t thought of – Focus! What color hat were they wearing? All of our speculations don’t mean shit if we can’t remember a single detail about them. Focus. What color was the hat? I can’t remember. I can’t remember. You have to! I can’t. You have to! Red? Blue? Green? No, no, no, just give me a second, just let me think, think, think, think, got it! Did it have a symbol or logo? No, but it had one of those silver stickers on it because the reflection blinded me for a sec. Are you sure? Are you sure it wasn’t a reflection from the cutlery or a piece of jewelry? A watch? Silver tooth? No definitely a white hat with one of those silver stickers. Okay, what else? Do you hear that? Yup, shit, top of the hour

a car parks in the lot,

the door opens

something dull flies into the sky.

Decision Outlets: A Series of Dichotomous Images

Series 1

A flower blooms in a tar pit.

A thirsty fly drowns in paper.

A silk nightgown on rain clouds.

A carbonated flat tire.

 

Series 2

An illuminated copper shoe.

A spilling sapphire receding behind prawns.

A giraffe swimming in a shot glass.

A dichotomous hippopotamus on house arrest.

A long-sleeved homeless tape worm.

 

Series 3

Wrought run sun with veined split ends.

Picture framed water stripes.

Tattoo dust collects postage stamps.

Rewind socks chirping before sifter.

Thylacine doctor runs cling wrap sand.

Curled caverns on perpendicular charcoal.

Words knit bodies on the ends of extinguished outlets.

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