Theatre of the Absurd - Fusion

Godot has arrived
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
Alive and well thanks!
...said the haiku poster
Crudely pasted to the fence
Who was too busy selling stolen goods
To notice he was a notice
Announcing a brand new play
A fusion of two classics
Waiting for Godot
A play about a man who never arrives
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead
A play within a Shakespeare play
Both "theatre of the absurd"
Both inverted
And slammed together
It showed a lot of promise
Or at least it promised a lot
Like two sweat stained t-shirts
Turned inside out
Wearable for a few more months
Eye watering
Nostril clenching
Before finally accepting the inevitability of the launderette
Shoved into the metal drum
Spin, churn, reverse, spin, repeat
With eager expectation of fresh attire!
But ending in a grey streaked mush
(Never mix darks and lights in the same wash)
This analogy was lost
On the burgeoning crowd
Gathering around the theatre
Drawn in by the ephemeral promise
A crescendo of clamour and chatter
Eager to experience this new wonder
Yet they should have known better
They had seen "theatre of the absurd" before
They had shown their appreciation
With a head scratching ovation
And murmurs of huh? And what?
Even a few ums? And uhhs?
Some had purchased programmes
The thickness of encyclopedias
To explain the illogical plots
More words written
Than spoken by the actors
(Who looked equally baffled)
They weren't even that aerodynamic
Obese paper bats thrown in rage
Flapping and crashing on the stage
Was this the absurd bit?
Was this the part that had no meaning?
Where were the heros?
Where were the baddies?
The love interest?
The twist in the tale?
They weren't proper plays
Not really
Not in reality
Existential or not
But this play was something new
Surely it would be better?
Like a glass hammer
Striking rubber nails
Maybe two absurdities would work?
After all, Godot had eventually turned up
And two minor characters had survived
What aspirations! What ambition!
What could go wrong?
The absurd doors
Of the absurd entrance
Swung open (absurdly)
As the absurd crowd poured
Into the absurd stalls
And absurd balconies
And absurd boxes
And became an absurd audience
And watched the absurd theatre...
... the disappointed patrons
Became a disgruntled crowd
And then an angry mob...
Some years ago
An absurd psychologist
Wrote an absurd paper
On the psychology of crowds
Especially angry ones
Some of the pages were mixed up
With another absurd paper
On absurd architecture
On the Pompidou centre
The inside out building
Two absurd papers
Amalgamised
Made one brilliant paper
A fusion of ideas
Worthy of a Nobel prize
Or at least it would be
If they gave prizes for psychology
Or even architecture
The horde
Now incandescent
With pitchforks
And burning torches
And grim determination
Applied the architecture of the angry mob
(Behaving as science predicted)
They deconstructed the theatre
And reconstructed it
Inside out
The boxes, the balconies, now face outward
The stalls surround and stretch into the distance
In all directions
(Were there really that many seats?)
And the rest of the world - an absurd stage
And all the men and women merely absurd players
In (or out) the inside out
Theatre of the absurd
Entry to the "theatre of the absurd" contest
Written 9th February 2017
Notes:
"Theatre of the absurd" refers to a genre of plays described at https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theatre_of_the_Absurd. Two examples are "waiting for Godot" and "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead"
"Waiting for Godot" wasn't always well received by critics and audiences: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waiting_for_Godot#Production_history
A "fence" is someone who knowingly buys stolen goods for resale https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fence_(criminal)
The Pompidou centre (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Centre_Georges_Pompidou) is a building famous for exposing it's infrastructure elements externally (air conditioning, plumbing etc.) giving the illusion of being inside out
There are no Nobel prizes for either psychology or architecture
"All the world's a stage..." is a quotation from Shakespeare's "as you like it"
Copyright © Mark Martin | Year Posted 2017
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