Greased Summer

Beverly and I went to see Grease at the Seacoast Rep in Portsmouth on Saturday night. The SRP isn’t exactly Broadway, Off-Broadway, or even the Wilbur, but it’s always been enjoyable. The plays are professionally produced and the acting is always superb. But Saturday night was something different. Because of the nature of this production and maybe because of the time of season (summer theatre time), the actors were very young. Most were seniors in high school or just entering college. And it showed. In other words, what we saw was the equivalent of an all-star high school production. They were excellent, but excellent beginners (and some probably have a very bright career ahead of them). But that night there were no veterans, other than the talented woman who played Principal McGee’s minor role, to carry the day. Still there’s something enjoyably innocent and summer like about that show: a bygone time or possibly a bygone fantasy. Things are slippery that way.

Sonnet August Thirteen

Fish are jumping.
Beneath the dive, his refraction
lies Adam swims only so deep—
in depths tell Brewster’s Alibis
—to splash the universe resurfaces.
His breaststrokes intermediate
passions the messenger to point
and shoot the profligate.
Wheels gentle down that way—
bottles dusting them immortal.
He rifles the moniker brand
names the common portal
vivid cottage in the lake.
True north draws inevitably fake.

~Son Rivers 2005