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Descent
of the
Dolls
(Part I)
Jeffery Conway
Gillian McCain
David Trinidad
Guest Starring
(in order of appearance)
D.A. Powell Wayne Koestenbaum Denise Duhamel Aaron Smith
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Table of Contents
Canto One........................................................................................................................... 17
Canto Two ......................................................................................................................... 32
Canto Three ......................................................................................................................49
Canto Four ........................................................................................................................ 76
Canto Five........................................................................................................................100
Canto Six ...........................................................................................................................122
Canto Seven .................................................................................................................... 145
Canto Eight ..................................................................................................................... 162
Canto Nine ...................................................................................................................... 186
Canto Ten ........................................................................................................................ 205
Canto Eleven................................................................................................................... 227
Canto Twelve ................................................................................................................. 240
Descent
of the
Dolls
I
Youve got to climb . . .
Canto One
Seated in a dark movie theater, their view partially blocked by a mysterious woman in a
black wig, Jeffery Conway, D.A. Powell, and David Trinidad are visited by Frank OHara,
Anne Sexton, and Tennessee Williams, who offer to guide them through this camp classic.
Weird sisters, the way is dark, and in the boughs
of the elm trees a familiar song: swirl of snow and wind
come chiming between thin branches. The house
lights fade and someone perches before us in a wig.
Try to move, to change the point of view
before the popcorn ads and the proffered cig
(you gasp: but this was a different era, too,
before the bigger blight of cellphone chatter
and it was almost sexy to smoke a Kool
or a Vantage with the cherry growing fatter
in the darkened theater rows). The point is spectacle,
one of Aristotles six concerns in dramathat, or
song, which in this case fills the long rectangle
of the screen with something that might pass for dance
if we hadnt already weathered the more respectable
Thoroughly Modern Millie and Half a Sixpence.
We settle in the broadest sense for tonights viewing:
another twist on the 3 gal theme, perchance
(DAP)
Three Giacometti figures rising
up from hell, tipped 90 become
shadows of three females before turning
shades of red, blue, yellow; then they succumb,
are changed into dolls (Jackies word for pills).
The camera zooms in on the red one
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Canto Two
To settle the poets doubts about taking the journey, OHara tells of how a blonde starlet
appeared to enlist his help. Another blonde, New York poet Gillian McCain, steps in to
assist Conway and Trinidad.
Inspirationless in the West Village
that line lies pendant for over twelve hours,
as doubt and trepidation pillage
my will to go onthis journey of ours
could take years (three months for one canto!less
than three minutes of film). I turn to powers
greater for help, courage, and guidance:
Jackie sitting a row in front of us, merely
traveling incognito, her annoyance
embowered in her wigs severely
sprayed strands; my New York poet Frank O.
is he still here in the darkness with me?
Did he leave with a pleasant stranger? O
Muses, O high genius, help me now.
I start: Poet, you who are my guide . . . oh
lets be realwhat the hell, Frank, allow
me to speak plainlywhy should I travel
into the Valley, into God knows how
many years of ripping this movie (full
of campy lines) to shreds as one might rip
the wig from the head of a rival?
Well, Miss Thing, if I have understood, quips
Frank, your soul has been assailed by fear.
That we should have no fear isnt what keeps
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