Visit of an American Poet characters



1 - Narrator



2 - Poet



3 - Wife



4 - Zarenda



5 - Employee



6 - Neighbour



7 - Policeman



(Salem, Frisco, Prestwich) Evil farce in three acts almost Brian Rixish in its semi cold ridiculous scenario



MES, overlapping voice 1 from 4: Thus began the slow palaver, subtle and almost unconscious in this loss of identity. (Running and growling through the back end of 94 to 98 the sixth) and now to explain.



And now for a message in a room with access to all in San Francisco



Voice 2: Another crooked smile. Is music a disease? Or is it just living in these soap opera times. They all end up depressives obsessive about their deluded goal. Is this me? Is this everyone in every crap commerce? Everyone without love brought up in violence and drunkeness? Why am I depressed? Work hard endless, endless no reward, 5,000 I'm owed. Music, music I belong to music. Why are there so many shit people in music?











Yeah this is about Mark, Mark told me a story about the visitation of an

American poet. She came round She came round.

into his arms She was nice she was nice..

(She was quite, a fucking good girl)

But she had a nasty streak in her

She turned nasty and made him a hostage in his own house

Mark was being fucking, plagiarised and fucking black ------ in his own

house

(She had a knife) so she was quite a serious threat because she was an

Amerian poet

Then Karl Burns came round and she went all nice and cheerful

She said to him, she said to him