Exit Stage Left

Exit Stage Left

(“Jesus answered, ‘I do not have a demon, but I honor my Father, and you dishonor me.’” John 8:49)

You played it deadpan
and we laughed. That was what
you expected.

You took a pratfall;
fell at the heroine’s feet.
And we were silent. It looked too much like
a stumble.

Half of us left the theater and loved the way
the
entire scene crumbled upon our departure.

We knew the lines by heart, and
you spoke a foreign language. We memorized
the entire script, and
you broke it into disconnected sketches.

Why would you leave it to us to
assemble the pieces? The brochure promised
our money’s worth. And our money was worth
less than we hoped for.

Exit stage left. Curtain drawn. Blackout stage right.
The audience for the Sunday matinee were queued
outside and interviewed us as we left.

We did not understand you, so we followed our own
feet to the back of the line.