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Nat Turner in JerusalemA Play
NAT TURNER
What do you mean by your copyright?
The right to copy?
THOMAS R. GRAY
Yes, well, the right to publish and distribute, which involves copying necessarily.
NAT
And who can grant such a right?
THOMAS
The copyright office, naturally.
NAT
...
THOMAS
It protects the rights of the man who has done the work.
NAT
And is God not a sufficient witness of our works?
THOMAS
Uh,
No.
Nat Turner in JerusalemPremiered in2016- Print Books
- Samuel French
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Dontrell, Who Kissed the SeaA Play
COMPANY [SHEA]
I wish my veins were rivers to the ocean,
COMPANY [DAD]
And my surging heart a bay.
COMPANY [MOM]
My sanity proclaims that blood is but blood,
COMPANY [DANIELLE]
And hearts are hearts,
COMPANY [ROBBY]
And what is lost is lost,
COMPANY [SHEA]
And by that logic, I am driven mad.
DONTRELL
Forgive me, future, what I have left undone. Forgive me, that I never learned to swim. How
strange: a wanderer on life’s sea, who cannot swim
Dontrell, Who Kissed the SeaPremiered in2014- Print Books
- Samuel French
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The Wind and the BreezeA Play
SAM
I’ll sit on the cooler.
RONDA
No, I’ll sit on the cooler.
SAM
It’s my cooler. You can’t sit on it.
RONDA
Well.
This some kinda view.
SAM
You wanna ice cream sandwich?
RONDA
Sure.
SAM
You wanna cup of ice with that?
RONDA
No, I’m good.
SAM
You sure? This good ice. This ain’t no grocery store ice, this gas station ice.
The Wind and the BreezePremiered in2018
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Pass OverA Play
MOSES
yo ass gon rise up to yo full potential too
gon git up off dis block
man
you remember
dat sunday school
ol reverend Missus be like
(as reverend missus)
sed uh
do you wanna cross dat river now chillun
sed uh
do you wanna cross dat river now chillum
KITCH
(gasping)
pass ovuh
MOSES
yeah nigga damn
i feel like we cud do dis shit
you feel me
git up off dis block
KITCH
amen!
MOSES
be all we cud be
KITCH
yes lawd!
Pass OverPremiered in2017 -
Pass OverA Play
OSSIFER takes out his gun and points
it squarely at MOSES.OSSIFER
watch it boy
MOSES
a’ight then
do it
cuz where i’m standin
my black ass dead already
all dat’s left
is how it happens
and who gets to bury
dat body
so come on nigga
less go
OSSIFER
my pleasure
(bang) (bang)
OSSIFER pulls the trigger twice in
rapid succession.The lamppost flickers.
We hear the brief buzz of locusts.
But nothing else happens.
OSSIFER (con’t)
what the—
Pass OverPremiered in2017
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WHITEA Play
VANESSA: Have you ever met a black woman…you know…in like, real life that talks like that?
GUS: I’m sure I have.
VANESSA: I see.
GUS: That’s why I think this matters so much. My work is really interrogating my own interiority. But having you present my work, I’m being more true to myself by exposing my inner self through you. Creating a real life version of …the black woman inside me. To be enjoyed by all. I want her voice to be heard. I want to create her with you.
VANESSA: Oh my god. I just read an article about this in The Atlantic. What did they call it? Uhph—Racial Tourism! That’s it!
GUS: That’s a new one.
VANESSA: No it’s like…“Let me play double-dutch with the black girls on the playground cause they make me feel all empowered and fierce. They can teach me fun comebacks and how to wag my finger and I can be just as fierce and fabulous as them, but without the burden of actually being a black girl.” I got that right?
GUS: Whoa…You don’t know me.
VANESSA: I don’t.
GUS: I’m not a racist.
VANESSA: This is really awkward for you.
WHITEPremiered in2017- Print Books
- Dramatists Play Service
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WHITEA Play
GUS: Just look at this work!
JANE: This one?
GUS: Incredible, right?
JANE: It’s quite good. It’s very much in the vein of your work, actually.
GUS: It’s not mine. It’s by a woman!
JANE: It is?
GUS: A Blaaaaaa-frican American woman.
(So, a note on this: Blaaaaa-frican American— he is negotiating, in the very moment, what to call this imagined woman. He starts to say black but decides instead to say African American and mistakenly blurs them. Thus creating a new “ethnicity” for her. Let it be as stupid as possible.)
JANE: ...A...Blaaaa-frican American woman?
(Gus: Aww hell, just go with it.)
GUS : Yep. That’s uh...how, she identifies...ethnically.
JANE: Ethnically?
GUS: Yeah. And she's a lesbian.
JANE: Oh I love that! That’s good.
GUS: And colorblind.
JANE: No!
GUS: Yes!
JANE: Shut up!
GUS: I won’t!
WHITEPremiered in2017- Print Books
- Dramatists Play Service
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WHITEA Play
BALKONAÉ: No one was checking for you, Gus. Till I came along.
GUS: This is all mine. Those paintings I painted.
BALKONAÉ: Well, I know that...and you know that...but uh...they don’t know that, sweetheart. They see my name on those paintings. So what’s the truth? Huh? What are they gonna believe, the things right in front of their eyes or some fairytale you cooked up?
GUS: We cooked up!
BALKONAÉ: I mean I understand you being a little jealous maybe—
TANNER: Wait a minute.
BALKONAÉ: But this slander has to stop. It’s very unattractive, Gus. Don’t hate because I’m the better artist.
GUS: HA!
TANNER: This is surreal.
BALKONAÉ: In fact, I’m hurt by this, Gus.
GUS: Oh please!
BALKONAÉ: We’ve worked in the same studio for months now.
GUS: You’re not a better artist.
BALKONAÉ: Oh. I’m superior.
GUS: No. You’re not even—
BALKONAÉ: Come on. Say it with me. “Balkonaé wore it better.”
WHITEPremiered in2017- Print Books
- Dramatists Play Service
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Beautiful Province (Belle Province)A Play
MR. GREEN: Two verbs! Granted, they are irregular. But that’s no excuse, for these forms —
Do. Not. Change.
They are immutable!
More reliable than the people in your lives. More stable than governments. More dependable than churches or philosophies. These verbs are your deliverance!
Commit these patterns to memory. Determine the person, the number, the tense. Then remember the form. That’s all there is. To conjugation.
Conjugation. Such a beautiful word. Such a beautiful act.
Beautiful Province (Belle Province) : A Play -
Beautiful Province (Belle Province)A Play
MR. GREEN: I wish you’d drink that.
(Pause.)
“I wish you would drink" is expressed in the Subjunctive. In French, that’s a complex grammatical form not usually introduced until the higher levels. But you’re mature for your age so I’m using the Subjunctive.
JIMMY: The Subjunctive?
MR. GREEN: Applied in an expression of desire or doubt. As in, “I desire it if you would drink that.” Much more civilized than a direct command such as “Drink that.”
JIMMY: It smells gross.
MR. GREEN: Another sentence in the Subjunctive: “I doubt I would be happy if you don’t drink that.”
JIMMY drinks.
Beautiful Province (Belle Province) : A Play -
People Sitting in DarknessA Play
MAGDALENA: Remember when we kissed?
During rehearsal. You as Huck. Me as Mary Jane.
Can I be honest?
That kiss? That wasn’t in the book. I added it to my version.
EDMUND: I guessed that.
MAGDALENA: And did you feel something? During the kiss? A feeling of happiness?
EDMUND: No, I didn’t.
MAGDALENA: It will be different tomorrow.
During the actual performance. With the audience. With all the people watching. Then you’ll feel it.
People Sitting in Darkness : A Play- Print Books
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You Got OlderA Play
MAE: I used to have a fantasy where my high school boyfriend Dave Gellatly – who totally cheated on me and like destroyed all of my self-confidence – would come to my window and knock on my window and then I would let him in and then he would be high on cocaine (even though I’m pretty sure he never did cocaine) and he would like rape me? And the whole time I’m thinking: Maybe I should scream! If I scream, my parents will wake up and come down here and save me and this whole thing will stop. But then if my parents come down here, they’ll see me naked with Dave on top of me. And I’m like a virgin. And super Christian. So I don’t scream. Because I’m too embarrassed. And he rapes me. And then later I decide to report it. And the whole town vilifies me and I’m like this outcast woman? And then Dave dies in a drunk driving accident and everyone is like: If you had just not reported it he would have died anyway and you would’ve gotten justice without having to besmirch his name
MAC: That was a fantasy?
MAE: I guess I just used to think about it when I needed to cry
You Got OlderPremiered in2014 -
You Got OlderA Play
HANNAH: It's weird when someone you hate dies of cancer. I'm pretty sure I wished that he'd die of cancer. Like verbally wished that he'd die of cancer. More than once. Maybe several times. I'm pretty sure that I said he was fundamentally a force for evil. I'm pretty sure I said that if he died the world would get a net gain in goodness and purity and kindness and love. But yeah. I didn't mean it. I don't think I meant it. Maybe I meant it? I guess I did mean it. At the time. In any case. I'm sorry he died. I didn't want him to actually die. But anyway…
MATTHEW: The sweater didn’t kill him.
HANNAH: No. Maybe?
(Hannah pulls her baseball cap down.)
MATTHEW: It didn’t.
HANNAH: But it's not just me.
It’s everyone.
There is a curse.
You knit someone a sweater and they break up with you.
You Got OlderPremiered in2014 -
You Got OlderA Play
DAD: The thing that always gets me is this. You’re outside. You’re looking at the sky. And it’s a beautiful sky. You’re happy to be alive. You’re aware that you’re having a nice moment. That it’s a good moment in your life. But then how long should you let it go on, you know? Shouldn’t you just look at the sky forever? Or at very least until you get very hungry and you have to go do something else? But I’m always itching to go do something else even when I’m in the middle of having a nice moment. It makes me feel guilty.
(They sit.)
(Mae thinks about Damian who she fucked without a condom even though she didn’t really want to fuck him without a condom and how she put her legs over his shoulders. Or his legs over her…? No. His shoulders. Her legs over his shoulders.)
MAE: Should we go in?
You Got OlderPremiered in2014
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The (curious case of the) Watson IntelligenceA Play
MERRICK
(resumptive)
So that's why I'm running. To dismantle the institutions that have enslaved us and humiliated us and conned us out of our money for far too long.
WATSON
You're running for election to the government so you can dismantle the government?
MERRICK
(no hesitation, total confidence)
Yes.
WATSON smiles pleasantly.
WATSON
Cool. Good luck.
The (curious case of the) Watson IntelligencePremiered in2013- Print Books
- Powell's
- Barnes & Noble
- Alibris
- Abe Books
- Samuel French
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The (curious case of the) Watson IntelligenceA Play
MERRICK
Several months ago I experienced a vision, a momentary blotting out of the mental faculties by passion that resulted, as in a solar eclipse, in a fiery corona of insight. I saw, all at once, that just as machines have brought relief to the coal miner, farmer, and factory worker, they might bring relief to those of us for whom certain psychic exchanges are themselves a kind of labor. There is no end to the work demanded of us in the effort to know another--it is an endless engine chugging away, day and night, in the backmost corner of our minds. And like all inefficient work, it sheds heat in all directions, burning off in wasteful plumes the precious mental energy that those of us who earn our living by our wits require to power our daily activities. My mind is my livelihood, Dr. Mycroft, and I cannot afford to have it ill occupied with the vicissitudes of a baffling but constant interaction.
WATSON
You are referring to--
MERRICK
I am referring, sir, to my wife.
The (curious case of the) Watson IntelligencePremiered in2013- Print Books
- Powell's
- Barnes & Noble
- Alibris
- Abe Books
- Samuel French
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The (curious case of the) Watson IntelligenceA Play
ELIZA
I can't figure you out! The longer I know you the less I understand you! I never have a clue what you're going to do next!
WATSON
Oh yes I'm a wild man! I'm liable to do anything! I could leave Route 16 one exit early and drive through a Blimpie's! I could make us rent Maid in Manhattan at Hollywood Video!
ELIZA
No, but I mean--
WATSON
(continuous)
Don't you know me by now? I'm the most predictable dude you will ever meet and you're cutting me loose for being too wild?
ELIZA
Look. I can't make you understand this. I don't know why I'm even trying. It's way, way outside the scope of your comprehension.
WATSON
(cold)
Why don't you fucking try me.
The (curious case of the) Watson IntelligencePremiered in2013- Print Books
- Powell's
- Barnes & Noble
- Alibris
- Abe Books
- Samuel French
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The InternationalistA Play
SARA
I don't think $20 is much for a bribe.
LOWELL
Isn't it? American? I was hoping it was a whole hell of a lot.
SARA
Maybe. Guys who work in airports make a lot of funny money different ways.
LOWELL
Oh but, oh, well. Yeah. Fuck. Well it was my first bribe.
The InternationalistPremiered in2006 -
The InternationalistA Play
LOWELL
So I've been wanting to ask -- and then I didn't because I thought is this really American? I want to know what you do.
She laughs at him, briefly and vigorously.
I mean at parties, it's got to come up sometime. It can't all be discussions of you know whatever the soul.
SARA
You want to know if you're in some way the boss of me, or if I'm the boss of you.
LOWELL
I do. I do want to know that. I mean is that really? Because don't tell me.
SARA
We say that at parties too.
LOWELL
I was sure of it.
SARA
The difference is that we continue the conversation, regardless of the answer.
LOWELL
Okay, no. See that's a prejudice.
The InternationalistPremiered in2006 -
The InternationalistA Play
LOWELL
Has it occurred to you that this capacity for the subtleties of life is defeatism? Because you are, you’re a defeated people. I mean of course you are, over hundreds of years, during history, you’re not going to be a winner every time. You’re long-term periodic losers. And what do losers do? They develop philosophies, they refine their appetites, they acquire an appreciation of the present, of their family, because there’s nothing for them in the future. They make the moment as distracting as possible, so they don’t have to think about the fact that everything that happens next happens without them.
And I’m not saying it’s any more than luck, it’s luck it’s all it’s dumb luck, well, geography, perseverance, but luck, whatever, circumstance, we’ve never been defeated, we’ve never lost.
(AN IMAGINARY SARA, only half corporeal, appears upstage in the shadows, back to him.)
LOWELL
(A slight correction:) On our own soil.
The InternationalistPremiered in2006
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King MePoemsFrom"Do Not Enter"
The deaf hear only in their dreams. I am sure
I can hear nothing. My how the mountain leaps
towards the sea and the little village below.
Who sang for the white plate my father tossed
at my sister’s shadow? What funeral is held
for a broken compass? When cutting onions,
leave a candle lit somewhere near an old man
holding his wife in a napkin. In the torn light of evening,
there is enough treason for everybody. Excuse me,
I should say something about the beauty of cranes.
Once in a sycamore I tossed a brick at a boy’s head.
It opened like the sea. I think I saw a crane.
King Me : Poems -
King MePoemsFrom"Treatment"
A pink pill opens a gash in the snow. I dive in-
to the wound, recover what I can. My sister,
a pear tree split open by an early frost, creaks,
splinters, and gags each time I offer this bit
of un-honeyed balm to her tongue, her crow
mind. Look, I say, bring the dog here. My hand
opens. The horn-shaped pill falls into his mouth.
He swallows. A good dog. But neither of us are
good dogs. Neither of us have learned to swallow
on command. Creak went the sun. Creak went
the hinges of evening, my sister’s mouth opening
with a little pressure applied to her throat.
Be good and take this, I say. Be good. Take this.
King Me : Poems -
King MePoemsFrom"Wave Before Leaving, Wave"
And then, the clawed feet of something
akin to speech crawling across the half-moon
of my lip. I, red beetled and buzzed, come
crawling into bed tonight looking for the last
light of this evening’s rage in your hair. God,
how long the night trapped in the bottom
of a bottle thrown into a sewer or lodged
in a man’s dark hand? I am still holding the bird
I wrestled from the street lamp of your anger.
It is pecking at my palm. I cover its mouth
and the avalanche in its throat when I come
into the house so as not to wake you.
The fountain, in the square, is still broke.
It leaks like a man. I’ve said this before: I come
as the children came before the closed door
of Noah’s ark: to plead for water. To beg you stay.
King Me : Poems
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The Morning of the PoemFrom"Footnote"
The bluet is a small flower, creamy-throated, that grows in patches in New England lawns. The bluet (French pronunciation) is the shaggy cornflower, growing wild in France. “The Bluet” is a poem I wrote. The Bluet is a painting of Joan Mitchell’s. The thick hard blue runs and holds. All of the, broken-up pieces of sky, hard sky, soft sky. Today I’ll take Joan’s giant vision, running and holding, staring you down with beauty. Though I need reject none. Bluet. “Bloo-ay.”
The Morning of the Poem -
The Morning of the PoemFrom"Dining Out with Doug and Frank"
My abstention from the Park
is for Billy Nichols who went
bird-watching there and, for
his binoculars, got his
head beat in. Streaming blood,
he made it to an avenue
where no cab would pick him up
until one did and at
Roosevelt Hospital he waited
several hours before any
doctor took him in hand. A
year later he was dead. But
I’ll make the park: I carry
more cash than I should and
walk the street at night
without feeling scared unless
someone scary passes.
The Morning of the Poem -
The Morning of the PoemFrom"Trip"
Wigging in, wigging out:
when I stop to think
the wires in my head
cross: kaboom. How
many trips
by ambulance (five,
count them five),
claustrated, pill addiction,
in and out of mental
hospitals,
the suicidalness (once
I almost made it)
but – I go on?
Tell you all of it?
I can’t. When I think
of that, that at
only fifty-one I,
Jim the Jerk, am
still alive and breathing
deeply, that I think
is a miracle.
The Morning of the Poem