“De-frocked! ” the young actress corrected the
erstwhile preacher-man, in
character, & the
Whole campus—including the
President—giggled as if on
cue. “De-FROCKED! ” she said, again & a-
gain, & we laughed, w/out a
c[l? ]ue. Then came the thunder &
That rain, wet splatter on the
wooden stage, equipped as it was w/
proper drainage by the
Techies, in Hephaestus’s name, not a slab warped.
They made it rain on
Stage—spouting forth *au naturel* from Tennessee’s
words, the preacher-man cleansing in it- & we
stood—even the President- w/out a
cue, feting the deception.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
De-fricken Yay! ! ! you back! ! ! ! no deception.. just the aroha xx