“That’s the Last Time I Hook Up With a-” A Duet

This was written to perform rather than to be read, so it might not have the full effect on the screen. But I’m still happy with some of the puns we got going. Much thanks to my fellow performer Roux B. Shears, who doesn’t have her own site to link to.

That’s the Last Time I Hook Up with a-
by Roux B. Shears & Zach Bartlett

BOTH: Okay, so we’ve written a piece that’s supposed to be read in tandem, like this. It’s called “That’s the Last Time I Hook Up with a-
ZACH: Poet.”
ROUX: Novelist.”

[Exchange confused/disapproving looks.]

ZACH: I guess the muse has taken her; she’s already going off script.

ROUX: Look, I’m just being honest. I have some issues with your chosen medium.

ZACH: What you have are whims. That just crop up out of nowhere when we planned something else.

ROUX: It’s called living in the moment! You should try it some time!

ZACH: You can have your little random moments, I’ll just sit here working on the big picture. I like my pictures how I like-

ROUX: Don’t you DARE finish that sentence!

ZACH: Sorry. But see, that’s what odd poetic whims get you: a foot in your mouth. Which is not an optimal organ pairing for my interests.

ROUX: Don’t I know it.

ZACH: You don’t even have to follow any rules when it comes to composition anymore, you can just go around declaring anything poetry. “Filled out the memo line on the check I wrote! Flash poem!”

ROUX: Sometimes I write fun little th-

ZACH: “Spilled wine on the table at dinner, I’m a multimedia artist!”

ROUX: Hey now-

ZACH: “Don’t know how to dress myself, that too is poetry!”

ROUX: The poetry usually comes in the undressing. And I don’t remember hearing any complaints about my wardrobe…or my lack of one.

ZACH: Well, ok, I’ll give you that. But there can’t really be any meaning to every little flight-of-fancy like that.

ROUX: Everything has to have a meaning with you. A background. Character development, A STORY. Sometimes, there isn’t a story. Sometimes things just happen without a plan! Some people go YEARS without drawing up an outline. Tell me, was there a story behind last night?

ZACH: I dunno. Personally, I don’t even go into a promising first date without having the future kids’ names planned out.

ROUX: Or as you call them, sequels.

ZACH: Laugh now; young Zach In The Habit is going to make his illegitimate father proud one day.

ROUX: My point is that not everything has to be tied in to some great narrative — some moments can just be nice in and of themselves.

ZACH: I could never just like things. There always has to be a reason behind it, a connected series of caused actions all leading inevitably towards some outcome, like rehearsing a whole duet word-for-word. It would go totally off the rails if some flighty poetess just decided boning prose writers was suddenly a bad thing. I’m staying on topic while her attention is wand’ring lonely as a cloud. . .

ROUX: And here he goes again, taking forever to get to the point. You have to sit through half a novella before he gets to the good stuff.

ZACH: I thought you liked it when I took my time getting to. . . the point.

ROUX: Well, okay. So maybe that wasn’t all bad.

ZACH: Mmm, that wasn’t rain glazing your Red Wheelbarrow.

ROUX: I’ll Take the Road Less Traveled down below your Waist Land to Sing your Body Electric with my Songs of Experience.

ZACH: I’d spend thirteen days just lookin’ at your back, bird.

ROUX: [confused look] That one’s kinda forced.

ZACH: Eh, I tried.

ROUX: I kinda want to make some pun about iambic pentameter.

ZACH: Pentamet-her? But you hardly know her!

ROUX: More like “Iamquick torammin’her.”

ZACH: Damn, girl, you got a way with words.

ROUX: We did have a good rhythm going back there.

ZACH: Care for some more enjambment?

ROUX: You know I’ve never metaphor I didn’t like.

ZACH: Alright, back seat of my car. Now.

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