“He forgot his entrance,” the actress was staying over drinks last night.
“Just forgot! Can you believe that? How can you just forget to go on?”
and then she describes how they all tried not to stand awkwardly,
red-faced and ad-libbing, trying to cover the hole
his absence of lines and body left in the plot. Afterward,
when they jumped on him, he cried, “You covered for it, right? No big deal,”
leaving them open-mouthed and indignant and small somehow,
as they tried to explain, shouting, “Don’t you see how this affected us,
the entire play? How can you not care about the hole?”
Some people never see the holes they leave,
the wake of their destruction, others’ picking up of their pieces.
Not everyone succeeds at interconnectedness.
And much of life is exactly this:
those who try to fill the holes
and those who make them.
© Meisaan Chan

About Meisaan Chan

This entry was posted in Poetry, Spiritual poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Holes

  1. This has given me new food for thought. (As usual) Thank you

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