By Justin Karcher
Revolution in Snyder, NY
By Justin Karcher
The director’s note basically says
“America’s the greatest”
so I put the program under my seat
and my mind drifts
I can’t remember
the last time I made out
maybe when Obama was still
leader of the free world
I like to think that when we’re asleep
our unused tongues leave our mouths
meet up in an America
where Obama is still President
then the music starts
the woman sitting behind me
will talk throughout the entire revolution
“Anyone have some Tums?
I have a bellyache”
I’m not mad she’s talking
just that she said “bellyache”
which confuses me
say “stomachache” or “tummyache”
she also brags about her shrewd financial skills
“I only pay $90 a month for my cable package, internet too”
“$90 is an okay brunch,” I think to myself
she also expresses patriotic relief
at what’s unfolding on the stage
“I’m glad John Adams didn’t give up”
by now, I’m getting annoyed
I want to stand up, turn around
and declare, “I wish he did give up
because maybe then
you’d be quiet”
but it’s opening night
I can’t cause a scene
the actors are vibrant
energetic
giving it their all
it’d be a dick move
then it’s intermission
and outside I’m smoking with some friends
there’s no place to put your butts
no ashtray
no digester of cancer scraps
probably because the theater’s in a school
Joyce says, “The world is your ashtray”
which is something an agitator would say
I collect the butts in a tiny plastic cup anyway
and leave it next to a tree
I put a note in my iPhone
reminding me to grab it after the show
back inside, the lights flicker
and we go back to our seats
the woman sitting behind me
is talking about Niagara Falls
“It’s scary there”
anyway, the year 1776
a hurricane hall of powdered wigs
rich men spinning in circles
singing about states’ rights
turning Philadelphia into a hot tomb
meanwhile, poor people fighting their war
New York covered in sleepy sores
I look all around me
the American Revolution never ended
and then I understand the all female cast
it’s like the Founding Fathers
vanishing in a vasectomy beam of light
snip, snip
their seeds evaporating into thin air
snip, snip
let’s start again
snip, snip
a better way of living
women blooming from the pungent pot of history
women with voices that shatter all of America’s stained glass
sometimes the shards shine brighter than the stars
and maybe this is victory
after the show, there are plates of cookies everywhere
congratulatory hugs in the narrow lobby
Tony taking photos
the flash
I step outside to retrieve my cup full of ash
and I swear there’s revolution in the air
the chatterbox and her friend walk by me
“Let’s do Tim Hortons, I want some tea”