Dramaturgy
“Now the works of the flesh are obvious…”
–Galatians 5:19
.
Misdirection,
spot-lit, narrator saying, look here, these men
embraced,
the shame
of it. As if sin were a banked dark in flood-lit
chiaroscuro.
As if light
were revelation, as if gesture or illumination were
truth, as though
narrator
was the voice of god, the voice bestowed by one
proclaiming to
a passive audience
comfortable in their seats. Consumed and consuming, unable
to know what is
at work
before the tableau’s next reveal: ruined landscape,
graveyard,
cataclysm.
What does it profit
a man
to be with
a man, embracing, tender-hearted
and yes,
naked
if that matters, making love or
just after
having made it,
Context always
the fuzzy
part, wobbled
focus when it comes to profit. What
does it
matter,
these men, their lives against backdrop
of sprawling empire?