Playhouse Farewells

the daggers are my own
it’s just me
the moon a follow spot
behind this tree
odd skulking shadow and dream
sincerely yours lovie
suddenly the provincial doctor
who has loved you all these years
pretending there is nothing
to forgive darling
for the lead
of the dog that will harry the bear
and chances are
you won’t be here
we'll go dark
no bums on seats
and then staff broken
what will the little man do
a good turn lights down
beginners please
with my my my
Shakespearean earworm
gathering breakfast, lunch and dinner
in another play that will never open
lets talk about this on our death bed sweetie
our wings stuffed in pillows
and air kiss
the fall of the final curtain
the odds were never favourable
in this kind of flush
now the angels will no longer invest
and the rehearsals have all come to dust
now really scare me
we open tomorrow night love