‘The rain, it raineth every day.’
She wears a jester’s hat on her head, shit –
and this is meant to be a man’s part, shit –
bet Shakespeare is turning in his grave!
Her words are bursts of spittle in the light,
bare feet on stage, arms waving, actor-ing.
We laugh when we should, clap when told to clap,
I itch and move and breathe and sniff and cough,
I want to check the time –
‘Oh god this timeless place!’
-I want to shout.
How Shakespearean would that be, I think.
How very thespian.
Now it rains. ‘Fucking rain,’ you say. I look
up into the face of the yellow night –
and yellow puddles like spilled chemicals.
I say this: ‘Puddles like spilled chemicals.’
‘You and your fucking metaphors,’ you say to me.
And yet it’s true, the river is aglow:
reflecting headlamps/streetlights, like there is
a galaxy down there,
beneath the ebb,
or else a stage,
some kind of theatre,
a city built to match:
‘Reversed,’ I say.
‘This city is the fucking theatre,’ you say.
‘Look at that kid over there, with the fucking hat,
or the kid with the hair like a fucking hippie,
fucking clowns – performers.’ I say, ‘What about us?
Just look at our reflection in the glass.’
But this is not a ‘what have we become’
sort of conversation.
It rains and we are wet.
That and the play was piss poor. And it rains.
It pisses it down. It buckets it down.
I think about my daughter.
Her words, her-
‘The rain it raineth all the (fucking) time.’
She’ll be an actress one day. I’ve no doubt.
Only she’ll have to be good. She’s no good.
I say this to you. But you don’t listen.
The yellow puddles like spilled chemicals,
glowing. We’re in an underground car park,
no rain, no sky, but the streets have flooded,
sewers spilled out, cars submerged in water,
flowing down the ramps, the stairs, through the grates.
We stand, a crowd, and watch the scene unfold.
The yellow water, then the lights go out,
and everything is black.
Rain, rain, midnight rain, I think.
‘We’ll probably fucking drown here,’ you say.
God. What a massive exaggeration.
But I hold your hand in the dark,
and everything is mostly fine, maybe.