Poems of Infinity

Theatre Is Like Sex

You practice the lines,
Line One Line Two Line Three.
Rehearse each movement
For better success.

It matters not if you fail,
For there is always next time!
Each rehearsal brings you one step closer
To that final performance.

Mid-Scene fights;
Criticisms and the likes;
The stress, mounting mounting mounting
To that final performance.

What if you're not ready?
What if we aren't ready?
Am I really ready
For that final performance?

The day arrives, Break a leg!
Months of planning and training
Bursting forth on the first night.
Nervous energy coursing through

And heightening the senses.
Taste the tension in the air,
The static sexual fear that
Drives us all.

First night is a delight, a treat,
Yet over too quick.
Mistakes are made and
The rhythm isn't right.

But the excitement and cheer
Drives your lust further!
You want more and you're ready
For the second show.

Second and third shows are like a lullaby.
You fix previous mistakes but new ones occur.
Lines are switched up, props misplaced;
Does this go here and am I doing this right?

The energy drops and the feelings wane.
Your eyes droop and your back is the bane.
The odd injury may occur,
Ranging from bruises to cuts and breaks.

It's all the same moves!
Same lines and same dance
Memorised after many rehearsals.
All for the entertainment of perverse onlookers.

Last performance: everything changes.
There is a sadness: it's almost over.
Let's give this last one everything!
Let's end on a high note...

Who cares about the mistakes,
The arguments, highs and lows,
All that matters is here and now,
Us joining to be one.

This euphoria, this ecstasy,
This is why we do it,
The climax our lust drives us to.
And then it's over.