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Theater & Dance

Showing 1-20 of 154 results
  • Poem

    poetry-magazineDance of Masks

    By Kim Ok
    Translated By Ryan Choi
                Ladies and Gentlemen, please, if you wish to taste
                true joy—and

                melancholy concurrently, you must
    Clothe…
  • Poem

    poetry-magazine탈춤

    By Kim Ok
    여러분, 서러움과 즐거움을 맛보려거든,
    ‘도덕’ 의예복과 ‘법률’ 의 갓을 묘하게 쓰고
    다 이곳으로 들어오십시오, 이곳은
    인생의 ‘이기’ 탈춤 회장입니다.
    춤을 잘 추어야 합니다,…
  • Poem

    poetry-magazineTrot Song

    By Elise Paschen
    During the Grayhorse
    Dances in June,
    my mother side-stepped
    around the circle,
    echoing moves
    her grandmother…
  • Poem
    By K. Iver
    You’ve never seen a lilac in Mississippi.
    Backstage you wear lotion laced with
    its chemical imitation. A ballet mistress
    says relevé always as command: lift
    onto the toe using only the heel.
    Your ankle’s bewilderment
    old as the horned owl gaze from
    your mother hunched in the...
  • Poem
    By Sharon Olds
    I did not deserve to be beaten,
    and I did not deserve ballet lessons––
    except insofar as everyone deserves ballet lessons.
    Me mum thought I was well worth beating.
    She would not have thought that I deserved to starve.
    I deserved the milk in her...
  • Poem
    By Ava Cipri
    Here is the encyclopedia where I learn first position
    Here is where I begin ballet: at 12, in a class of 6-year-olds
    Here is where I get my period
    Here is where I substitute dance for childhood
    Here is studio “B” where I practice
    Here...
  • Poem
    By David Wagoner
    Under the sagging clotheslines of crepe paper
    By the second string of teachers and wallflowers
    In the school gym across the key through the glitter   
    Of mirrored light three-second rule forever   
    Suspended you danced with her the best slow dancer   
    Who stood on tiptoe who...
  • Poem
    By Robin Becker
    Think of the fox skins belted to the backs of the dancers

    at Santo Domingo Pueblo, a thousand fox skins leaping.

    The first year I heard the bells around their waists.

    The second year I heard the drum inside my belly.

    The third year...
  • Poem
    By Len Verwey
    Sorry, I assumed you were awake anyway.

    Let's try it without the heavy breathing
    toward the end of the scene in the garden.
    It distracts, somehow. Just speak the words, there
    and elsewhere, as loudly
    or as quietly as they need to be spoken.
    Need in...
  • Poem
    By Luke Kennard
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    The show remains, unshot. Adah rants. Cain bares his teeth. Starvation: a state without border. World without means. Haha. Who’d have thought. Total inter- regnum. Theogony. Thrombotic idea. (Debt flogs verb.) A retro daydream: I hid under the hollyhock. The...
  • Poem
    By Luke Kennard
    An extremely hubristic, unflattering, and accurate self-portrait, this episode saw Halberg in direct conversa-
    tion with Cain, questioning his own methods. The passing allusion to Pushkin’s Eugene Onegin appears
    to reference Chapter 4, stanza XXXV: “But I myself read my bedizened /fancies,...
  • Poem
    By Luke Kennard
    A much-needed swan song from Cain, blasting Father K’s bien-pensant ideology and everyone else in his path. A neoliberal trying to ingratiate himself with the construction worker and trustafarian alike, his argu-
    ments lighter performed as a he’s right, you Ingram....
  • Poem
    By Luke Kennard
    Injured, sleep-deprived, sorely tested, Adah, Cain, and Father K are falsely imprisoned in a shallow cave
    with other unfortunates seeking refuge from their war-torn homeland. It is hard to blame the writers’ room
    if “Unlike All Other Empires” felt as cynical and...
  • Poem
    By Luke Kennard
    One of Halberg’s more whimsical decisions: just when the action is coming to a head, attempt to pull off
    something formally innovative. “Underwritten? Lithe!” could have been a note to his detractors in this
    metaphorical on-screen corrections list. Each one of its...
  • Poem
    By Luke Kennard
    But not before several undisputed stone-cold classics. This is why we keep writing about Cain: for all its self-indulgent flaws it just gets it so right sometimes. Every standard element is here: the gang is still drinking far too many...
  • Poem
    By Luke Kennard
    It is generally believed that the writers had to make the most of a low budget and that this led to the grim determination of writing through restriction, bottle episodes, and constraints. In reality the show was generously bankrolled by...
  • Poem
    By Ed Skoog
    Ethics are learned from who you sleep with
    the first few times, and theater is sex,
    almost. Being in it, I mean, and being young,
    with a lot of group undressing
    and silence in darkness, chaste
    permissions of the cast party,
    spiked punch in the recreation...
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