High School Theatricals

- on reading a poem by Li Po; translated by Ezra Pound

"I'm gonna so pan it in my blog," goes my brother,
And he tells me to shut up
As I go about singing my numbers.
My dad calls it "no beauty in the least"
And's a total shit and pest
Over its alleged criminal plot failures.
My mom goes on about how I looked so pretty
But the mike made my high notes sound really tinny.
But as for me, for me, oh for me...

I pause over each picture that I post,
I look at the girl, so made up,
Her dress so clean, so blue, so pure,
"So like a deer in car headlights
About to be toast," goes my brother.
And I don't really recognize her,
Though I totally remember each instant,
Feeling so tightly wound I hardly existed,
From the preview performance for pictures
When each flash froze the rush of time
(Why did it have to get restarted?)
Through each instant in the four shows
And all other time was and is just waking sleep.
No, these pictures aren't real in the least,
Yet they're the only real things I have to keep.

Here're some courtesy of my Dad,
Of me in a kindergarten performance,
Wearing a glittering pink dress-up gown,
I think I'll leave 'em out.
There I am, I've totally lost my crown
And've gone under the risers to hunt it down.
I've no memories of that at all, it's gone.
And Oh my God there's the Beast! Such a little Beast!
He and some other boys are waving banners,
I'm sure like three fourths of us at least
Are on that stage somewheres.

I know nothing like this'll happen again.
In college there'll be too much competition
And the cast and crew can never've been twelve years together.
Though only a few of us are like close friends,
We've come to work so well together.
Now it's over.

So who are these pages for anyways?
My friends list? My aunts, my uncle?
Oh I don't know.
Maybe for myself 40 years down time's drain?
Maybe I'm waving a banner
So she can recall and perhaps regain?
Oh I don't know.
That 58 year old's a total stranger
In fact, I care so much less for her
Than I do for my Grandmother,
Whom I love and see most days.
So who're these really for?
Who'm I addressing these words to in my head?
To me, to me, oh to me.