Civic's studio program

Look, already it's happening here. The weight of words, the torrent, all the words being said seep into each other, the rage , the protest all clotting together. Sit and listen to the wireless and run the wheel of the tuner, spin the dial, hear them all at it, in all languages, pouring out. This is, after all, our first punishment - Babel - saying so much to say nothing. Doing so much to do nothing. Because the power to arrest, to stop us short in our tracks, what does that?................but the silence, listen, how rich it is, how pregnant, how full........
What do you remember? When all is said and done? A kiss? The taste of someone's lips? A view? A breath? A tune? The weight of your grandmother's coffin? The veins on your mother's legs. The white lines on her stomach.
Stop speaking for a day and then start looking.
The senses are sharp! Look at the world about it's business, the snarl , the roar, skin stretched over the teeth, the madness!
The law is frightened of silence. It has words for the defendant who becomes mute. The Wrath of God. Mute by Malice. But it is not silence which is the punishment. Words. WORDS are the punishment.
The silence


beautiful.
Last year it was cigarrettes,
the year before chocolate,
but this is the best.

(from the play Cigarettes & Chocolate)
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This is the monologue I'm performing Monday; I wanted to see if I could type it from memory...it was easier than I expected - I wonder if they'd let me type it instead of speaking...probably shouldn't ask..
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