why I know you’ll learn the new step. You see, it’s a way to start over and forget about all the things you were never really good at. Nobody can resist that, can they? That’s why you’ll learn the new step. That’s why I must teach you. And soon you’ll want to learn. Everybody will want to learn. We’ll be teaching everybody.

MARY

:

I’m fairly busy.

COLLECTOR

:

Don’t worry about that. We’ll find time. We’ll make time. You won’t believe this now, but soon, and it will be very soon, you’re going to want me to teach you everything. Well, you better get some sleep. Sleep is very important. I want to say thank you. All the Obese want to say thank you.

MARY

:

Nothing. Goodnight.

COLLECTOR

:

Just beginning for us.

(

Exit the

COLLECTOR

.

MARY

,

dazed and exhausted

stands at the door for some time. She moves toward stage centre, attempts a few elementary exercises, collapses into the chair and stares dumbly at the audience. The sound of a key in the lock. Door opens. Enter

DIANE

alone, crying.

)

DIANE

:

I didn’t want him to see me home.

(

MARY

is unable to cope with anyone else’s problem at this point.

)

MARY

:

What’s the matter with you?

DIANE

:

It’s impossible.

MARY

:

What’s impossible?

DIANE

:

What happened.

MARY

:

What happened?

DIANE

:

He doesn’t want to see me any more.

MARY

:

Harry?

DIANE

:

Harry.

MARY

:

Your Harry?

DIANE

:

You know damn well which Harry.

MARY

:

Doesn’t want to see you any more?

DIANE

:

No.

MARY

:

I thought he loved you.

DIANE

:

So did I.

MARY

:

I thought he really loved you.

DIANE

:

So did I.

MARY

:

You told me he said he loved you.

DIANE

:

He did.

MARY

:

But now he doesn’t?

DIANE

:

No.

MARY

:

Oh.

DIANE

:

It’s terrible.

MARY

:

It must be.

DIANE

:

It came so suddenly.

MARY

:

It must have.

DIANE

:

I thought he loved me.

MARY

:

So did I.

DIANE

:

He doesn’t!

MARY

:

Don’t cry.

DIANE

:

He’s getting married.

MARY

:

He isn’t!

DIANE

:

Yes.

MARY

:

He isn’t!

DIANE

:

This Sunday.

MARY

:

This Sunday?

DIANE

:

Yes.

MARY

:

So soon?

DIANE

:

Yes.

MARY

:

He told you that?

DIANE

:

Tonight.

MARY

:

What did he say?

DIANE

:

He said he’s getting married this Sunday.

MARY

:

He’s a bastard.

DIANE

:

Don’t say that.

MARY

:

I say he’s a bastard.

DIANE

:

Don’t talk that way.

MARY

:

Why not?

DIANE

:

Don’t.

MARY

:

After what he’s done?

DIANE

:

It’s not his fault.

MARY

:

Not his fault?

DIANE

:

He fell in love.

(

The word has its magic effect.

)

MARY

:

Fell in

love

?

DIANE

:

Yes.

MARY

:

With someone else?

DIANE

:

Yes.

MARY

:

He fell out of love with you?

DIANE

:

I suppose so.

MARY

:

That’s terrible.

DIANE

:

He said he couldn’t help it.

MARY

:

Not if it’s love.

DIANE

:

He said it was.

MARY

:

Then he couldn’t help it.

(

DIANE

begins to remove her make-up and undress, reversing exactly every step of her toilet.

MARY

,

still bewildered, but out of habit, assists her.

)

MARY

:

And you’re so beautiful.

DIANE

:

No.

MARY

:

Your hair.

DIANE

:

No.

MARY

:

Your shoulders.

DIANE

:

No.

MARY

:

Everything.

(

Pause.

)

MARY

:

What did he say?

DIANE

:

He told me everything.

MARY

:

Such as what?

DIANE

:

Harry’s a gentleman.

MARY

:

I always thought so.

DIANE

:

He wanted me to know everything.

MARY

:

It’s only fair.

DIANE

:

He told me about her.

MARY

:

What did he say?

DIANE

:

He said he loves her.

MARY

:

Then he had no choice.

DIANE

:

He said she’s beautiful.

MARY

:

He didn’t!

DIANE

:

What can you expect?

MARY

:

I suppose so.

DIANE

:

He loves her, after all.

MARY

:

Then I guess he thinks she’s beautiful.

(

Pause.

)

MARY

:

What else did he say?

DIANE

:

He told me everything.

MARY

:

How did he meet her?

DIANE

:

She came to his house.

MARY

:

What for?

DIANE

:

She was collecting money.

MARY

:

Money! (

Alarm.

)

DIANE

:

For a charity.

MARY

:

Charity!

DIANE

:

Invalids of some kind.

MARY

:

Invalids!

DIANE

:

That’s the worst part.

MARY

:

What part?

DIANE

:

She’s that way herself.

MARY

:

What way?

DIANE

:

You know.

MARY

:

What way, what way?

DIANE

:

You know.

MARY

:

Say it!

DIANE

:

She’s an invalid.

MARY

:

Harry’s marrying an invalid?

DIANE

:

This Sunday.

MARY

:

You said he said she was beautiful.

DIANE

:

He did.

MARY

:

Harry is going to marry an invalid.

DIANE

:

What should I do?

MARY

:

Harry who said he loved you. (

Not a question.

)

DIANE

:

I’m miserable.

(

MARY

is like a woman moving through a fog toward a light.

)

MARY

:

Harry is going to marry an invalid. He thinks she’s beautiful.

(

MARY

switches on the record-player.

) She came to his door. Harry who told you he loved you. You who told me I had my points.

(“

The Dance of the Sugar-Plum Fairies” begins.

MARY

dances but she does not use the steps she learned at the

YWCA

.

She dances in conscious imitation of the

COLLECTOR

.)

DIANE

:

What are you doing? (

Horrified.

)

(

MARY

smiles at her.

)

DIANE

:

Stop it! Stop it this instant!

MARY

:

Don’t tell me what to do. Don’t you dare. Don’t ever tell me what to do. Don’t ever.

(

The dance continues

,

DIANE

,

dressed in bra and panties as at the beginning, backs away.

)

CURTAIN

THE PAPER

My fingers trembled

like eyelashes assailed by lust

I signed a paper preventing

the Market from loving me

My childhood friends lined up

to say goodbye

I mistook their gesture

for a firedrill

and out of habit of hatred

for the make-believe

I underlined my signature

Goodbye girls and boys

I call today in a riper voice

In the cold mirror of opium

I saw all our lives

connected and precise

as pieces in a clock

and the shining ladder

I teetered on was nothing

but the pendulum

NURSERY RHYME

A beautiful woman dignified

the cocktail lounge

     suddenly we were drinking

for a reason

We were all Absolutists

     with a rose carved in our minds

by a 5-year-old brain surgeon

Gentlemen

somewhere a shabby wife waits for us

with some decent news about chickenpox

But let me speak for myself

I believe in God

I have seen angels pulsing

     through the veined atmosphere

I am alone with a window

     full of bones and wrinkles

O terrible eyes

O perfect mouth

     my fantasy shipwrecked

on the metal of your hair

Your beauty rides a wet flower

like a sail above a deep old hull

     I need to touch you

with my fleshy calipers

Desire is the last church

and the ashtrays

     are singing with hunger

Even if you are the Golden Calf

you are better than money

or government

     and I have bent my knee

Roses are roses

blue is blue

History Greece Art Measure Face Tree Sphere Blossom Terror Rose

remind me remind me remind me

OLD DIALOGUE

- Has this new life deepened your perceptions?

- I suppose so.

- Then you are being trained correctly.

- For what?

- If you knew we could not train you.

WINTER BULLETIN

Toronto has been good to me

I relaxed on TV

I attacked several dead horses

I spread rumours about myself

I reported a Talmudic quarrel

     with the Montreal Jewish Community

I forged a death certificate

     in case I had to disappear

I listened to a huckster

     welcome me to the world

I slept behind my new sunglasses

I abandoned

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