This is part 2 so far. A short story as a play in 2 or 3 voices

A clarion call –
( too the confused by newspapers)
neatly trailing off into depression – knowing nothing / more or less it is all the same / it is all the same
it is said trailing off to be ingested –
( devouring capitalism )

Flames and contortions –
( shades of St. Vitus )
the agony within those souls wandering – lost to the ether /
(Aether)
those little insurrections
( thieves of history)
saving up time / too steal those last songs of England’s dream.
( oh now that is a little grim. )

Waiting for what comes next
( The typically tedious )
those dreary little trips the mind goes on when one gets bored.
Transgressions / depressions – those little holes – gaps in the codex –
( revealing what is not said?) ( fill it in , your history/her-story. It is all still just a story)

It adds a layer of needless abstraction – or so said the lady in black to the spider on the wall/
who looked at here like only a spider can; as if to say what’s your game girl?
( oh did you hear that a Manson reference , I didn’t now it was going to be one of those plays.)
It’s all in the Playbill… unnecessary diversions and those uncomfortable leftover letters floating away in sleepless nights –

Act EL or Eh

Sweepings – away from the factory floor –
( What? Wait this is no factory )
The movements are not fluid
( were they ever?)
Romance the dance Mechanique
( the ugly soul of humanity raises itself from the slag heap of realization .)
This is space station earth
( all aboard!)
Welcome to the Brain Drain
( it’s all downhill from here.)

Romance of/the revolution dance
( steampunked – forward – power provided by industrialization)
It’s all so very sexy – appealing don’t you think – reduced to be recycled like so much detritus being blown down the alleyways –
It’s is no wonder Mr Brown shoes with black suit fucked the economy, he can’t manage to dress himself without being in violation of the code. Makes one wonder what does the future hold?
( I’m hoping for Blade-runner.)
A rammen noodle subsistence …
( accept no substitute hippie longstockings )

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