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78 Speech of the Simple Bard, Unbroke by Rules of Art What true thing can I say about life? To me it is a prison. Stranger, I swear, Monsieur is on horseback. Borrow whatever you want. Sexiness, utility, and trendiness aside— to me it is a prison. Thanks to the people who make this performance possible: Karen K, Antonio, Felix, Molly, Barley, G-sus, Shark. Rock on! Buzz, buzz! There isn’t anything like it (this monologue of pure selfhood) not in Denmark or in Tennessee. And there’s nary a portal in the fragrant soil. Nary a mouse in winsome weather. Nor dignity. Nor peace. Nor panacea. These are the desolate, irreverent effusions of my heart . . . Rock on! Buzz, buzz! (“Suddenly there was a mythic aroma and the distant vibration of a jaunty canter.”) ...

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