Hi, everyone. I'm overdue for five-second theater, which I'm going to arbitrarily rename rewrite theater. I just felt that it was technically more correct, and the old name sort of implied I was watching the clock. Also, if it's alright with you, I'd like to change the deadline to Monday morning, so you get all weekend to finish these. Sokay?
To remind people, because the last game was a long time ago, the rules are:
This week's line comes from one of my favorite poets, Williams Carlos Williams. One of my college professors told me that he blamed Williams for the bad poetry of the past 70 years. I used to argue that was like blaming Shakespeare for bad sonnets in iambic pentameter. I don't think my prof bought that argument.
1) I provide a line from a play, a movie, a song lyric, or from somewhere else in life.
2) You create compelling drama in four lines of dialogue or less. Stage direction and scene-setting is encouraged.
In any case, I actually blame the bad poetry of the past 70 years to William Wordsworth and the other Romantics, who were, when you get down to it, a bunch of hippies in frilly shirts.
One of the things I love about Williams' poetry is that it gives us a picture of the way an uncluttered mind sees details of the world. Forget adjectives, which add baggage! It's like a modern art interpretation of a haiku. I mean, in "This is just to say," he's not just telling us about the treachery of the speaker. (Click on the link for the original poem with the correct line breaks.) We feel it and see for ourselves what an asshole he is. But, I don't want to do your work for you. Without further ado, here's your line:
WILLIAM: I have eaten/the plums/that were in/the icebox/and which/
you were probably/saving/for breakfast/Forgive me/they were delicious/so sweet/and so cold
Good luck! Deadline is Monday noon-30. Pacific Time, so people who have to blog from work get a chance to play.
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