Mouth

STRAWBERRY DRIPPING CHOCOLATE
by Amanda Miller

Lips, teeth, tip of the tongue— pink and wet in the mouth, rolling along the edges of the gums. Muscles. Bones. Human anatomy! My body wrapped up inside someone else’s. In, on top of, inside, under, rolling rolling, melting melting, sugar sweet. Full body pulse, belting arias and hitting the highest notes— Italian sky. Urban sky. Country sky. Skyline. Kiss me, kiss me, KISS ME! First the breath, then the lips, then the tongue. In and through. Flood. Standing on the bridge, entranced by the view. Standing on the roof. SO MUCH SKY! SO MANY STARS! One two three JUMP!!! (The perfect time to grow wings.) Night. Sky. Air. Moon. Giant blast of Mercury out my window. Seemingly unrelated. “All things are one,” I told him, would tell him, if he would listen. Sit. Stand. Lie. Kiss. Licking. Moving. Music. Sing. A torrent. A whishhhh. A what? Oh oh please yes please thank you. Delicious. Rich. Full. Sweet. Strawberry dripping chocolate into my mouth, my mouth, my mouth.




Excerpt from NOT I by Samuel Beckett

Stage in darkness but for MOUTH, upstage audience right, about 8 feet above stage level, faintly lit from close-up and below, rest of face in shadow. Invisible microphone.

AUDITOR, downstage audience left, tall standing figure, sex undeterminable, enveloped from head to foot in loose black djellaba, with hood, fully faintly lit, standing on invisible podium about 4 feet high shown by attitude alone to be facing diagonally across stage intent on MOUTH, dead still throughout but for four brief movements where indicated.

As house lights down MOUTH`S voice unintelligible behind curtain. House lights out. Voice continues unintelligible behind curtain, l0 seconds. With rise of curtain ad-libbing from text as required leading when curtain fully up and attention sufficient into:

MOUTH: . . . . out . . . into this world . . . this world . . . tiny little thing . . . before its time . . . in a godfor– . . . what? . . girl? . . yes . . . tiny little girl . . . into this . . . out into this . . . before her time . . . godforsaken hole called . . . called . . . no matter . . . parents unknown . . . unheard of . . . he having vanished . . . thin air . . . no sooner buttoned up his breeches . . . she similarly . . . eight months later . . . almost to the tick . . . coming up to seventy . . . wandering in a field . . . looking aimlessly for cowslips . . . to make a ball . . . a few steps then stop . . . stare into space . . . then on . . . a few more . . . stop and stare again . . . so on . . . drifting around . . . when suddenly . . . gradually . . . all went out . . . all that early April morning light . . . and she found herself in the--– . . . what? . . who? . . no! . . she! . . [Pause and movement 1.] . . . found herself in the dark . . . and if not exactly . . . insentient . . . insentient . . . for she could still hear the buzzing . . . so-called . . . in the ears . . . and a ray of light came and went . . . came and went . . . such as the moon might cast . . . drifting . . . in and out of cloud . . . but so dulled . . . feeling . . . feeling so dulled . . . she did not know . . . what position she was in . . . imagine! . . what position she was in! . . whether standing . . . or sitting . . . but the brain– . . . what?. . kneeling? . . yes . . . whether standing . . . or sitting . . . or kneeling . . . but the brain– . . . what? . . lying? . . yes . . whether standing . . . or sitting . . . or kneeling . . . or lying . . . but the brain still . . . still . . . in a way . . . for her first thought was . . . oh long after . . . sudden flash . .



THE LANGUAGE
by Robert Creeley

Locate I
love you some-
where in

teeth and
eyes, bite
it but

take care not
to hurt, you
want so

much so
little. Words
say everything.

I
love you
again,

then what
is emptiness
for. To

fill, fill.
I heard words
and words full
of holes
aching. Speech
is a mouth.