(call the crowd/class/love interest/obliging parents/pet/wall to attention)
(inhale) (3.67 second pause, for effect)
(in the manner of a washed-up actor teaching A Midsummer Night’s Dream to 9th graders who have previously been vaping in the hall):
The author
(.91 second pause) (as if expecting the court scribe to lunge for a scroll and quill to make note of your decree)
has no bearing
(1.13 second pause) (as if teasing the expectant crowd with the Best Picture nomination)
on recitation.
(7.42 second pause)
(during this time, stand upright and smile coyly, as if basking in the cheers of your adoring fans, roses and undergarments accumulating at your feet)
(re-gather the crowd/class/love interest/obliging parents/pet/wall)
(inhale sharply)
The poem should be read
(.551 second pause, as if addressing America to disclose that a meteor, tsunamis, and nuclear warheads are hitting the East Coast all at once)
as the reader
(4.19 second pause, as if preparing a one-liner before shooting the combination of Freddy Krueger, the Predator, and Satan right between the eyes)
sees fit to read it.
(take a bow, as if you have solved the Riemann hypothesis while simultaneously juggling flaming steak knives)
(exit)
Jack Drummond is a theater sophomore from Seattle. He writes poetry, plays, fiction, essays, and pretty much everything else. In his spare time, he enjoys video games, trivia, and figuring out complex etymologies.
