Pancake Makeup For Yorrick

I lit pine candles

At the altar 

Of St. Stanislavski

Left offerings

Of myself

To Chekov &

Meisner

Seasick nights

Beneath a thrifted peacoat

With a belly half full

Of 7-11 hot dogs

The graveyard shift worker

Let me have for a penny

All for a place

On the mountaintop 

Having to wonder how

To deliver

A tender, heartbreaking soliloquy 

To a glassy eyed resident

Of Uncanny Valley

Closeup

Tender touch

Her plasticized wax hand

In mind

& the director is pissed 

& wanting to know

Why it is

I can't stop laughing

& crooning 

Some old song

"What is love without the giving,

Without love you're only living an imitation,

An imitation, of life."