BECOMING BONOBO A Play in One Act by Troy Camplin Cast of Characters Bonny: A woman in her late twenties to early thirties. Pam: A woman in her late twenties to early thirties. Randy: Bonny’s husband;

Because I’d loved her more than anyone That I had met before, much more than I Should have, I came in to this crisis and the sun Slow-setting on my spirit, made this cry Go echo deeper through the lonely

The sun, the light, Brazilian warmth, the sand To softly surging sea, a hotel room With wife and children there and no demand Beyond the conference where I assume My place among the experts who are there

The distribution of the galaxies Across the universe resembles nerves Within our brains, the pattern reproduced From simple, largest scales down to the most Complex phenomenon’s constituents – A scale-free

With messages sent back through time from more Complexity to now, an oracle Is needed to translate the metaphor Into a metaphor once he is full. A python wraps around the dendrites, hides Away the branches,

We yoke our children each to the same yoke, The slow are dragged, the fast attempt to run Ahead, until the slow slip from it, broke, The fast break out, their education done. Unless the fast are beaten

I cannot envy anyone, Not just because this monster is the source Of almost every evil – no, the sun That runs the course Of my bright sky is you, and I Could never envy anyone when my Beloved wife Is

Is that a crocus peeking through the snow? The winter melts away around the bloom Of tender promise in light indigo. I'm thankful for the disappearing gloom.

I’m here to help because I love you so. You don’t know me. Go help the one you know. I love you for you are one of mankind. That’s saying you can see when you are blind. I want to give you help, you nameless

I sit up in my cave and contemplate – Why must the swallows dive down at my head? – I search my soul and with it I debate The meaning of my life, the place of man Here in this world, and wonder at the

Has poetry saved someone’s life? Their channeled lines have certainly saved mine, Warm rhythms born on my cold strife. It’s poured forth as a constant wine Confluencing my tributaried self – But they were

The old man sits on his front porch. He will Not sell the wooden birds he carves or trees He started in his back yard. Cold winds chill Him though he wears a sweater in the breeze – A sweater that his

Please swear to me that you will love no other. Do not forget I also have a mother. Then promise me no female else can come To take your heart. We want it all, not some. He swore that if another female

Behold the strife that drives the world The strife between both strife and love With paradox all life unfurled The eagle works in wing with dove Cliché is mated with the new What is is only what becomes

The solitary in the cave is gone He has abandoned us it seems forever He does not look upon the nearing dawn He does not move the earth with wisdom’s lever The television’s on the radio Is drowning out

Blue feminine pure harmony is not, My lovely beloved not-I, Enough to make a tune. Your woven cot Seduces me to stop and lie Among your folds, your crystalline embrace, And forget that true love must take

The spider pulls the thread to thread the web In spirals on the star across the stems, A zig-zag to the side to stitch it up, Then centers itself, looking out in eight Directions, its organization firm

A mist sprays out upon this wood And lays among trunks dark with living. A rush of blossoms burst, a good And worthy show of this world’s giving. Such rich growth masks what, hiding, must Fall into what

To learn this poem’s meaning you Will have to wait awhile first. I see that Wheel of Fortune’s on. You have to fill these papers out. Your turn will come and if you’re not Available you’ll lose your turn.

Mountains rising to the clouds Snowy peaks the mist enshrouds Stones protrude above the trees Bent down by the mountain’s breeze. Glaciers grinding down the stones Lay to light the ancient bones – Ocean