I wish I knew how not to feel dead...
...So here is some poetry to help you to bed.
Act Two - Part One (Also known as Day 21, honest!)
The Wild Party by Joseph Moncure March
1
The gang was there when midnight came.
The studio was it by candle-flame;
Dim: mysterious: shrouded.
Unbidden shadow-guests swarmed
About the room. They huddled crowded
In every corner; raised deformed
Ungainly shoulders, hideous, tall
Necks and heads against the wall.
Enormous blurred hands kept stealing
Spider-like, across the ceiling;
Crossing with sharp, prismatic masses
Of light from swaying spectre glasses.
the flames flickered:
The shadows leapt:
They rushed forward boldly;
Swept
Triumphant
Across white faces:
Wavered, retreated;
Turned, defeated,
And shrank back to darker places.
The party was getting under way
Stiffly, slowly.
The way they drank was unholy.
They hovered around the glass-filled tray
Ravenously,
Like birds of prey.
White, intense;
With mask-like faces
Frozen in rigid, gay grimaces.
They chattered and laughed
Stony-eyed:
Impatient:
Hasty:
Preoccupied.
They drank swiftly, as though they might
Drop dead before they were properly tight.
Christ,
What a crew!
Take a look at Madelaine True;
Her eyes slanted. Her eyes were green;
Heavy-lidded; pouched; obscene.
Eyes like a snake's:
Like a stagnant pool
Filled with slime.
Her mouth was cruel:
A scar
In red,
That had recently opened and bled.
Her body was marvellous:
A miracle had fused it:
The whole world had seen it-
And a good part had used it.
People bought their seats in advance
For fifteen dollars,
Glad of the chance
To see her dance.
Women adored her.
Less often, a man:
And the more fool he-
She was Lesbian.
Then Jackie:
Perfectly formed of face,
Slim, elegant,
Full of grace:
Leaving a subtle trail of scent
Floating behind him as he went.
A soft-shoe dancer
With a special act.
New York or Paris-
His house was packed.
He had two cars.
He had been behind bars
For theft, public nuisance, rape:
Once extra for trying escape.
Too bad?
Nonsense!
He was fun.
A good sport:
Of some unheard-of preacher father
Who had kicked himout as too much bother.
Of course-
(The Black Horse)
His hips were jaunty,
And his gestures too dextrous.
A versatile lad!
He was ambisextrous.
By contrast - Eddie:
A short, squat brute,
Gorilla-like: hirsuite:
With eyes deep set,
A nose battered
Flat on one side,
And teeth scattered.
The bones about his cheeks and eyes
Protruded grimly, oversize.
A boxer, you'd guess-
And right.
The man could certainly fight.
Aggressive; fast;
Punishment-proof:
Each hand held a kick like a mule's hoof.
He might have been champion-
He had the cunning:
But drink had put him out of the runing.
Away from the ring, he was easy-going;
Good-natured - if sober-
And given to blowing.
But after he'd had his tenth Scoth'
A man to be careful of
And watch:
And when he was mixing gin and rum-
A man to keep well away from.
His woman at present was Mae.
She was blonde, and slender, and gay:
A passionate flirt,
So dumb that it hurt,
And better for night than for day.
Behold the Brothers d'Armano:
Otherwise, Oscar and Phil.
They sang:
They played the piano:
They functioned together with skill.
They lisped.
Their voices were shrill.
They were powdered,
Rouged,
Sleek of hair:
They must have worn
Pink silk underwear.
They clung together with arms laced
Each about the other's waist:
Stood around in anguished poses.
They rated
A shower of paper roses;
Lavender lights,
And the stink of joss.
Suffering Moses,
What a loss!
Watch Delores:
Dark, tall,
Slim,
Wrapped in a Spanish shawl;
With a Spanish comb making a flare
Of crimson against her smooth, black hair.
A singer
Without a voice:
But she rode in a Rolls-Royce.
She made herself up, and out, to be
Of Spanish aristocracy
(As a matter of fact,
If one only knew,
She was somewhat Negro
And a great deal Jew.)
In each eye lurked
What she thought was a dagger;
And she walked with a slink
Mixed with a swagger.
She was swell to sleep with,
Her toe-nails were scarlet.
She looked like - and had been-
A Mexican harlot.
There were others, of course:
A dozen or so.
Sally,
With Butter and Eggs in tow-
He had seen her first two nights ago
In the chorus of a summer musical show.
And the usual two
Loud Jew
Theatrical managers stood engrossed
Bewailing high production cost.
Each of the had suffered most.
In twenty minutes both had lost
The sum of sixty million dollars-
With gestures:
After which they sighed,
And drank
Panting:
Tragic-eyed:
Mopping at sadly wilted collars.
Nadine:
Mae's kid sister.
Fourteen:
No man had kissed her.
Excitement made her wide-eyed:
She was so thrilled to be there
She could have died!
She was quite pretty
And she looked older.
She knew only
What had been told her.
And of course, Burrs:
Natty in grey,
With a breath you could smell a yard away:
Putting his better foot foremost
And trying to be the perfect host.
The rest were simply repetitions
Of the more notorious. Slim editions:
Less practised; less hardened:
Less vicious; less strong:
Just a nice crowd trying to get along.
But to-night, Queenie surpassed them all.
Exquisite in blck;
Radiant;
Tall;
with a face of ivory,
And blurred gold for hair:
She was something to kneel before, in prayer.
"My god, Queenie; you're looking swell!"
Quoth Queenie:
"I'm feeling slick as hell!"
Act Two - Part One (Also known as Day 21, honest!)
The Wild Party by Joseph Moncure March
1
The gang was there when midnight came.
The studio was it by candle-flame;
Dim: mysterious: shrouded.
Unbidden shadow-guests swarmed
About the room. They huddled crowded
In every corner; raised deformed
Ungainly shoulders, hideous, tall
Necks and heads against the wall.
Enormous blurred hands kept stealing
Spider-like, across the ceiling;
Crossing with sharp, prismatic masses
Of light from swaying spectre glasses.
the flames flickered:
The shadows leapt:
They rushed forward boldly;
Swept
Triumphant
Across white faces:
Wavered, retreated;
Turned, defeated,
And shrank back to darker places.
The party was getting under way
Stiffly, slowly.
The way they drank was unholy.
They hovered around the glass-filled tray
Ravenously,
Like birds of prey.
White, intense;
With mask-like faces
Frozen in rigid, gay grimaces.
They chattered and laughed
Stony-eyed:
Impatient:
Hasty:
Preoccupied.
They drank swiftly, as though they might
Drop dead before they were properly tight.
Christ,
What a crew!
Take a look at Madelaine True;
Her eyes slanted. Her eyes were green;
Heavy-lidded; pouched; obscene.
Eyes like a snake's:
Like a stagnant pool
Filled with slime.
Her mouth was cruel:
A scar
In red,
That had recently opened and bled.
Her body was marvellous:
A miracle had fused it:
The whole world had seen it-
And a good part had used it.
People bought their seats in advance
For fifteen dollars,
Glad of the chance
To see her dance.
Women adored her.
Less often, a man:
And the more fool he-
She was Lesbian.
Then Jackie:
Perfectly formed of face,
Slim, elegant,
Full of grace:
Leaving a subtle trail of scent
Floating behind him as he went.
A soft-shoe dancer
With a special act.
New York or Paris-
His house was packed.
He had two cars.
He had been behind bars
For theft, public nuisance, rape:
Once extra for trying escape.
Too bad?
Nonsense!
He was fun.
A good sport:
Of some unheard-of preacher father
Who had kicked himout as too much bother.
Of course-
(The Black Horse)
His hips were jaunty,
And his gestures too dextrous.
A versatile lad!
He was ambisextrous.
By contrast - Eddie:
A short, squat brute,
Gorilla-like: hirsuite:
With eyes deep set,
A nose battered
Flat on one side,
And teeth scattered.
The bones about his cheeks and eyes
Protruded grimly, oversize.
A boxer, you'd guess-
And right.
The man could certainly fight.
Aggressive; fast;
Punishment-proof:
Each hand held a kick like a mule's hoof.
He might have been champion-
He had the cunning:
But drink had put him out of the runing.
Away from the ring, he was easy-going;
Good-natured - if sober-
And given to blowing.
But after he'd had his tenth Scoth'
A man to be careful of
And watch:
And when he was mixing gin and rum-
A man to keep well away from.
His woman at present was Mae.
She was blonde, and slender, and gay:
A passionate flirt,
So dumb that it hurt,
And better for night than for day.
Behold the Brothers d'Armano:
Otherwise, Oscar and Phil.
They sang:
They played the piano:
They functioned together with skill.
They lisped.
Their voices were shrill.
They were powdered,
Rouged,
Sleek of hair:
They must have worn
Pink silk underwear.
They clung together with arms laced
Each about the other's waist:
Stood around in anguished poses.
They rated
A shower of paper roses;
Lavender lights,
And the stink of joss.
Suffering Moses,
What a loss!
Watch Delores:
Dark, tall,
Slim,
Wrapped in a Spanish shawl;
With a Spanish comb making a flare
Of crimson against her smooth, black hair.
A singer
Without a voice:
But she rode in a Rolls-Royce.
She made herself up, and out, to be
Of Spanish aristocracy
(As a matter of fact,
If one only knew,
She was somewhat Negro
And a great deal Jew.)
In each eye lurked
What she thought was a dagger;
And she walked with a slink
Mixed with a swagger.
She was swell to sleep with,
Her toe-nails were scarlet.
She looked like - and had been-
A Mexican harlot.
There were others, of course:
A dozen or so.
Sally,
With Butter and Eggs in tow-
He had seen her first two nights ago
In the chorus of a summer musical show.
And the usual two
Loud Jew
Theatrical managers stood engrossed
Bewailing high production cost.
Each of the had suffered most.
In twenty minutes both had lost
The sum of sixty million dollars-
With gestures:
After which they sighed,
And drank
Panting:
Tragic-eyed:
Mopping at sadly wilted collars.
Nadine:
Mae's kid sister.
Fourteen:
No man had kissed her.
Excitement made her wide-eyed:
She was so thrilled to be there
She could have died!
She was quite pretty
And she looked older.
She knew only
What had been told her.
And of course, Burrs:
Natty in grey,
With a breath you could smell a yard away:
Putting his better foot foremost
And trying to be the perfect host.
The rest were simply repetitions
Of the more notorious. Slim editions:
Less practised; less hardened:
Less vicious; less strong:
Just a nice crowd trying to get along.
But to-night, Queenie surpassed them all.
Exquisite in blck;
Radiant;
Tall;
with a face of ivory,
And blurred gold for hair:
She was something to kneel before, in prayer.
"My god, Queenie; you're looking swell!"
Quoth Queenie:
"I'm feeling slick as hell!"