Sunday, September 7, 2008

The Half-Twisted Twists of Trinity Place


Photo from DiscoverBlackHeritage

Have you ever had a writing project come out of nowhere?

My dear friend Callan and I have a running joke about how we were once a vaudeville act in a past life. (If you've seen us interact in person, you'll know why.) I told the jokes, and she rang the gong. Because sometimes I have whims to write in rhyming couplets, this bit of an inside joke became the start of an adult picture book about how we rose to fame as the Half-Twisted Twists of Trinity Place. Here's a sample!

The Village bohemes had the wildest tricks
In the year of Our Cod, ninteen hundred ought-six
I once heard the tale of exceptional girls,
Wit like a sledgehammer, bon mots like false pearls.
At the corner of Church Street, in a chill garrett loft
They'd fired their latest of agentish toffs.
Rie tired of penning their dreadfuls for dosh
And dreamed of careers with a bit more panache...
"We'll find us a job to which we can admit
And make names for ourselves, we'll be a sure hit!"
Callan pondered, "The name, I suppose is the thing,
Though Faffney Codswallop sure does have a ring."
"I see the bright lights," countered Rie with a sigh,
"There's more to living than paint and peach pie."
"You never complained bout the baking before,
Till you fell for the pie-hating poetess bore."
"Nevermind her, I've got us a plan,
We'll make our own fame,and find you a man!
Our names up in limelight, our act in the Times,
Fans throwing knickers and committing small crimes!"
Callan wondered and thought till her hair held a curl
And said, "What can we do, mere slips of a twirl?"
"That's it!" cried Rie with a hand to her face,
"We're the The Half-Twisted Twists of Trinity Place!"
(As it must be explained: the young twist-and-twirl
Is Cockney for ambitious, naive bohemme girl.)
Rie sobered and said, while grooming Cal's pup,
(Their curls would match before the night's up.)
"We'll need costumes, and sets, and connections, what's more
Everyone in the theatre's a bit of a whore."
"There's a whore in us all," quipped Callan with glee,
"None like fallen dames for unique joie de vive."
"From where do they fall?" asked Rie absently
"Do we have the bread for the booking fee?"
"Oh, fees," said Cal as she gathered her kit
"Let's work on our costumes and practice our bit."

They were models of virtue who'd fallen from grace
The Half-Twisted Twists of Trinity Place

There are two more verses, so far--if you'd like to read it, please toss me an email!


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