Thursday, September 22, 2011

Week Four - Improv One, "Documentary"

I decided to try the word-replacement strategy we're, I think, doing for calisthenic next class. I've had my eye on "Documentary" by Claribel Alegia for a little while now and decided to try that out. It's a fairly long poem (it starts on page 514 in our anthology), so I ended up only doing a portion of it and in the begining I was just plopping whatever words I felt like in there just to see what happens. It starts to get a little more pointed as I go on, but the more I did it, the more I realized I wanted to try a legit improv off of this another time about, either, NY or GA. I think I'll try it sometime soon. Until then...my mad-lib like try at "Documentary," most of which is terrible, but a few phrases are kinda fun:

Documentary

Come, be my picnic basket.
Let’s scoop the crackle of crickets
the queen collector
extruding pockets of tacks,
my handle.
It’s the lightyear.
Focus on the traumatized boy
slapped with mud.
Now, among jungle mazes:
Skipped,
honeyed palms
stained with berried blisters.
Shift to a long shot:
the clutch of prickle-presents
pinning down the sand box.
extruding pockets of Cracker Jacks.
A contrast:
Men in puddled smoke
crack and crumble,
harmonizing their courtship
with whistles.
Focus down.
A close-up of the swollen hand,
blistering in the canopy.
Hard-focus on the stroller
scattered in the wind.
Cut.
The splinter of rough metal
worn from the handle.
Mothers in jockeyed sneakers
polish the cheekbones,
attack harmony,
celebrate invasions,
and feel puckered for dinner.

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