|DÉNouement Monologue by John Weaver|
- So now I get the dirty throwdown, huh?
- What do I mean? Yeh, that's a good one, ain't it?
- How do you get that way? You think I'm blind?
- I seen you with that girl the other night!
- Aw, Frank, how could ya ever come to do it?
- I ain't changed, am I? Ain't I just as swell?
- Don't my eyes shine the same way, just for you?
- Don't you remember out to old San Soozy
- We won long-distance prizes, dancin' together?
- You says, "You keep the prize; what's mine is yourn,
- And vicey versy." Yes, and don't you remember
- When you--when you first kissed me in Jim's Ford,
- And all them lovely things you says to me,
- And me believin' 'em, because I loved you? ...
- I should of knew, I should of knew, I should of!
- Men is the same, kiddin' a girl along,
- Makin' her love 'em, till she lost her brains
- And done what never can't be undid now!
- But still....
- That night the stars was winkin' down,
- And looked so bright and happy, just like me.
- The little waves was chucklin' 'round the boat,
- You and the wind took turns, kissin' my forrid.
- Down underneath I felt the engines pumpin'
- Just like your heart, pressin' against my cheeks.
- The lights was out, it was so dark and haunted,
- I felt so safe with them big arms around me,
- And dreamy, with the boys singin' soft,
- Playin' their yukalalies. And I says--
- Don't you remember what I says? I say,
- "See them two rows o' lights along the shore?
- Them is the city's teeth, shinin' so white;
- The city's laughin', just like you and me;
- Laughin' and laughin'. Everybody's glad." ...
- The fool I was! The stupid, crazy fool!
- I listened to your talk, give in to you,
- Lovin' you heart and soul, never went home
- Till noon, lied to 'em all--and now--and now--
- I'm finished!--thrun away!... Them lights was teeth,
- The teeth the city's got, to tear and tear me--
- Murderin', tearin' teeth! They got me in 'em!...
- Go on away! I never want to see you!
- Go get that red-head fool, tell her I sent you!
- I hope she'll be another fool like me,--
- I hope you burn and burn in Hell!
- I hope--
- Oh, what's there anything to hope for, now?...
Credits: Reprinted from In American. John Weaver. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1921.