Steve_Bamlett_blog

What podcasts are you listening to?

I desperately want to see this production

A late evening in the future.
THUS THE STAGE DIRECTION READS.
To show you that the podcast to which I
Listen is probably that I'm making,
Is probably that I hear in my play
In that future, where the true present lies. 
Krapp listens hard in the future to come
In forty years or thence. But there's no voice,
To hear. No ambivalent longing lost
In time, '
                      Krapp, being queer in my reversion
Would speak of 'my face in his chest hair, my 
Mouth on his sweet nipple, my  hand on his.'
No noun still, though most men imagine nouns
That are genital. My version maintains
The potential that his 'hand' is what may
Be understood in the grammar of that
Phrase: my hand in his (hand). Whoever shows
From out of silence some reciprocal
Tenderness, may have freed us from the bond 
Of  body reduced to sexual parts
To feel embodied love without love's juice.

But the sad beauty of Beckett remains:
For it is "clear to me at last that the
Dark I've always struggled to keep under
Is in reality my most - unshatterable   association
until my dissolution of storm and night
With the light of the understanding and the fire - "
So Beckett gets Krapp to cut up podcast
Texts so that they become his poetry.

What's lost in a podcast for Krapp - just that
Some lines lose sense, for the digitised
Voice will never 'spool'.
                                              "What's in a year now?
The sour cud and the iron stool' 
                                                 Then with a pause.
'Revelled in the word spool'.  Then a short pause,
Before a crescendo relished in a 'Spooool!'
Lets's fancy now that Becket's Krapp is my  Tooool
To lever language from some orifice,
Till I pass time like its an iron Stooool.

With Love
Steven xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx