an episodically published poem
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the chartered twin engine Canso banked to starboard
and we all looked down at the huge circular crater
and splashes of rock rayed out over tundra grasses
and scattered stunted hard northern evergreens
the cauldron rose above the vast tundra a Celtic temple
haunted by chanting spirits on wind-swept moors
close to a wine-dark sea
she’s two mile wide walls are quarter mile high lake is
eight hundred feet deep hey can we circle ’round again
do better than that hold on and we dove into the crater
in a steep heart squeezing dive that tested the struts
and mountings of the tough tight seaplane and the eight of us
swinging wildly as if in a hammock under the vibrating wing
skimming across the water walls sheer all around us
straight ahead walls straight ahead walls solid rock walls
coming up as either our bowels let go or we hit and it
what a pilot we haul up out of the huge maw lucky bait
that got away drifting out over the silent empty wild
I enter from the back door, the tech entrance, fumble
in the absolute muffling black run into the huge velour
backing unaccountably left at floor level and find the switch
high overhead fluorescents flicker on and I see that
the main traveller is closed, thus accounting for the dark
I go to the main’s lines and hand over hand pull it open
the house sits dim and empty lit only by the stage light
and the tech worklight a soft glow from the back booth
here the magic here the terror here the silence that consumes
the house is empty no cough no creak of seats flick of paper
sit here relax wait for no one just anticipate action passion
here is life in large death in context unity coherence cycle
here are answers and questions that are answers answered
here is focus of communal collaboration to create magic
here is the theatre
(to be continued)
