An Actor’s Ritual
The drive into town is the worst
I’d like to recite my lines but instead I rage
Lodged between Sunday drivers, as usual
Like they’re dispatched in my honor.
A shudder goes through me, and I adjust the heat
The air is getting crispy, the Earth’s tilt responsible.
Oh, what would I know? I can only play a scientist.
My brain works for writing and creativity
But malfunctions when computing meteorology.
I free myself from the pocket of meandering traffic
And pull into the abandoned parking lot.
My giant bag getting stuck on the steering wheel as I hurry
Call time is dangerously close to arriving before me
And anyways, I welcome the escape.
I walk briskly, endlessly wrapped in my woolly scarf
Passing the marquee that says Now Showing
I reach the stage door and it whispers open
Before signing in I detour through the downstage vom
Opening to the stage itself, I walk out to the baron audience
I breathe in the room, religiously filling my lungs and smile
The apron echoing my dainty steps and welcoming me home.
Time dictates that my greeting is brisk, I turn to leave
The dressing room proves to be chaotic, a twisting bundle of limbs
Actors in half make-up jockeying for mirror space
Music and laughter compete for sound waves
The dust of Cheetos and eyeshadow litter the counters
Once perfectly coiffed, I cover my updo and face with hairspray
And liberally coat my teeth with Vaseline
I begin vocal exercises and stretch my face in grotesque angles
With extra emphasis on the Ah’s, E’s and Oh’s
When the House opens, we quiet to contemplation
My chaotic mind slowing to a silent examination of craftsmanship
The Stage Manager calls for places and my adrenaline stirs
As I tiptoe through darkness and velvet, I reach my entrance
The audience unaware of my hidden anticipation
Music and lights still all conversation
The show is starting, and anything can happen
I pull back my shoulders and raise my head
I take a deep breath and engage my core
Necessity and second nature propel me towards the light
I walk onstage, feeling the weight of their stare
I am home.
Indigo
An unknowing shepherd, solid in stance
With indigo eyes, and conquering might
His journey inspires loves yearning glance
Herding us home in the aqua twilight
Needing only our legs, without vessel
Swaying beyond ocean’s rich fingers
Kicking aside the undertow we wrestle
Uncertain tides in waves as it lingers
In tethers, pulling and saving my dreams
Our undersea oasis so obscure
Knowing and unknowing all that it seems
Following, dancing, reveling so pure
Once shepherd, now seahorse, he anchors true
At last immersed among indigo blue.
Lo Stone (She/Her) is a senior at Grand View University, studying Theatre Arts and Creative Writing. She’s also an actor, director and playwright who happens to love poetry. Lo most recently produced, wrote, and acted in an autobiographical one-woman show, Kumquat, at the GVU Viking Theatre in Des Moines, IA. She resides in Iowa with her amazing husband and her terrible, bratty, no-good children, who are her greatest treasures.