Translate

Saturday, May 17, 2003

From Blue Norther, A Play by Grayson Harper




ALBERT: Man, I should'a stayed on the loose like you, Stan. I swore I'd never let some woman tie me down.

CLAY: All men say that, Albert.

ALBERT: Did you?

CLAY: Sure.

ALBERT: I thought things would be different with Darla. She was a hippy when I first dated her. She had long straight hair and never wore brassieres. Just those thin little summer dresses. You know, with flowers on 'em? You could see through the flowers in a certain light. See everything she had. Of course, her breasts weren't all that impressive. But I think it was just the idea that they were never--you know--contained in anything. That sort of got to me. She was makin' jewelry back then--out of broken glass. You know, she'd take pop bottles and smash 'em to bits. Now, that's what I call low overhead. She made earrings and necklaces out of that stuff and sold it at craft fairs. That's where I first met her, was at one of those fairs. Now, she works in a mortgage company. On a computer. And she wears business suits. Brown and grey business suits. And plain old white bras. Playtex. She could be a Republican, now, for all I know.

No comments:

copeland morris ENTWINED SONNET

Her shaded eyes, her necklace black velvet, onyx. Anguish she spoke; and he carried on, obsessed As only a young man could. An odd harm...