Back
Break a Leg
The lights were dimmed, you took the stage…
“Good Luck,” I heard as I turned the page.
For a moment I stopped--was that quite right--
To say “Good Luck” on an opening night?
The script I held was not quite done…
The part I played had just been won.
The curtain drawn, the crowd amazed--
It was I who had ascended the stage.
Act one had passed without a glitch
The lights were hot--we’d found our niche.
Act two, act three, unmistakably
Your heart already belonged to me.
Then the curtain was drawn--a murmur arose;
It couldn’t be over--one couldn’t suppose
That two of such lovers could come to such ends--
A moment in love and the next one just friends.
The script had run out--its writer took leave,
And then he came back--our hearts torn at the seams.
“the show must go on” as the phrase often goes…
And there we were, reading our script with eyes closed.
The intermission caused our skills to rust
It seemed the problem was a matter of trust.
The audience, confused, looked on in distress
At the frustrated actor and his stumbling actress.
The plot had twists; you knew your lines…
And though I adlibbed, we’d aligned our minds.
As the play drew on, our costumes changed--
And out of their context, our characters were strained.
Instead of a mix of pants and of skirts,
My attire had gone to only shorts and your shirts.
My hair went from short to exceedingly long--
And before we each knew it, the pixie was gone.
The stars with their circles disappeared from sight--
It seemed even Lady Moon hung from a cliff that night.
Scene by scene, our script had changed,
And the plot that once had been prearranged--
Lingered like a memory meant only to confuse--
Someone else, it seemed, had taken my muse.
I stood in a stupor upon the stage--
Aware of the stagehand, my heart disengaged.
She was in the play? This couldn’t be right--
“Kara: stage-left”…I held the script tight.
The prettiest Brutus in all of the world--
Around you both the spotlights swirled.
You and the writer switched our parts?
Your tactics had worked--you held the audience’s hearts.
Enraged, I felt my heart pound in my chest--
And, out of a job, I looked on with the rest.
Circles formed around the stars in my eyes--
The pixie was back--I lifted my ‘guise.
Backstage you both came to sip a drink--
“Good Luck” I muttered, without a blink.
You paused on your way, a tremble I could see--
You never expected such words from me.
On your way out to take your bow--
You realized your fate was in my hands now.
To Break your leg would have pleased you more--
As the tradition goes in dramatic lore.
I returned the favor to set the score right--
I damned you both with “Good Luck” on an opening night.
~Kara Mae Adamo~