King Lear at the BAM Harvey Theater on a Wednesday Night in Winter

You forget, when the old king pulls his shirt off
And it gets stuck around his head, his pants down, his penis swinging out,
What you came in wearing. It’s like you’re wrapped in but a blanket.

Remind yourself he was Gandalf, Magneto, Richard III,
That he’s not just Lear. Sir Ian McKellen (remind yourself).
Lear, lost in the gales in nowhere
Land, lonely but not alone. The rain on stage falls mainly
On the stage, not spilling past the bared bricks
Walled together under patches of painted plaster in the theater
(Remind yourself, watching the hanging of the fool).
You still feel cold.

And everyone but the old king –
Who this whole time never once
Broke from his lines,
Or ripped the meter like a map – is dead.
Look there, look there –

You can’t.
The blackout,
The felled curtain.
Remember,
Applaud.

– EWW