![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Suckage: A Spoken Word Poem.
Mar. 9th, 2005 06:59 pmA lone poet walks out onto a dimly lit stage. He is dressed all in black attire, and is bespeckled in thin black rimmed glasses. His footsteps echo on the wood of the stage skirt.
He pulls an old, 1950's style microphone from behind the curtain, stage left. It gives off a bit of feedback as he adjusts it.
Suddenly, a spotlight snaps on, illuminating him.
He clears his throat.
Poet: Well, today sucked ass.
He bows slightly, and exits, stage right. There is a smattering of snaps and half hearted applause.
Lights down.
He pulls an old, 1950's style microphone from behind the curtain, stage left. It gives off a bit of feedback as he adjusts it.
Suddenly, a spotlight snaps on, illuminating him.
He clears his throat.
Poet: Well, today sucked ass.
He bows slightly, and exits, stage right. There is a smattering of snaps and half hearted applause.
Lights down.
