Principal Boy.

I am acting as if there is no hurricane

enveloping me,

sweeping skywards,

battering me with all the forces of nature

that life can control.

I am a bystander

in my own self written pantomime,

the star of the show somebody

once uncast and negligent

in their approach to physical theatre

and they dodge the cream puff pie

with ease; that

is not how it was ever supposed to be.

The hurricane, the wind inside ferocious

and tedious lands on the stage, the principal boy

quivers with jealous excitement as her tights cling

to the shapely legs, the furniture is torn to pieces

and the script thrown high into the black ridden cloak sky…

all is again quiet, the pantomime continues

and the principal boy delivers her lines beautifully.


Ian D. Hall 2017