Closet Drama Poem by Michael Pruchnicki

In a back bedroom upstairs stands an antique armoire-
a four by eight foot clothespress of Spanish dark maple-
ornate cornice and frieze overhanging double doors,
brass hinges and doorknobs gone verdigris,
carved diamond shapes inset in each door panel-
a facade behind which odds and ends hang and lay
in skewed disarray like discarded costumes,
soiled and stained with sweat and greasepaint.

Open the doors and look within, I say-
see the pair of brown corduroy knickers at the back,
seat worn through in spots, a rip over one knee,
a splintered hockey stick lying athwart the abraded fabric-
mute testament of a youth spent in mock battle.

Note the pile of wrinkled and mildewed clothing-
Army garrison cap, uniform jacket, faded service ribbons
and tarnished brass buttons-a castoff costume
from a two-year run in an Asian theater production
that featured a cast of thousands.

Close the double diamond doors!
Transform rage to metaphors
and similes in lines of verse!
Take up brush and paint!
Give life to images in the mind's eye!

Put on the garb of citizen artist!
Get this show on the road!

LIGHTS! ACTION!