Woe Is She

WOE IS SHE “Was ever woman in this humour wooed? Was ever woman in this humour won?” Is the theatre of the absurd the new market place for suitors? Her the jester unbeknownst to her, Juggling objects too far from her reach as if by catching she herself will crumble. Foolish her showing up on set with an open mind and an unmarked heart, Hilarious wise cracker with her flimsy moves around the nutcracker; Wobble on; duck duck she is still the goose. “Was ever woman in this humour wooed? Was ever woman in this humour won?” Or the conduct presented she misread, Too many teeth covering his smile should have been a sign of something more hidden Perfected moves as the lights shine on his perfect pose Her imperfect self feeling gratitude for being licked by the light shining on him, Wobble on, duck duck she is still the goose. Wobble on, duck duck she is still the goose All birds in the same pond but the colours tell Unique is no camouflage it remains a mark distinct The final hurrah is here while the ducks curtsy She in her dark humour wooed, Remains backstage_