[Mic in a spotlight, second spotlight on a balcony area. Enter from back dragging a large axe handle across the floor to mic.]

“Good evening, my name is Grant. / Some of you won’t get me. // Turn-ons include: Checklists and / Administrative Language // Are you yourself right now? / Kegel. // First, right now, I’m going to Grapefruit this piece. / Now I am on the balcony, drooling over the edge, drooling into the abyss, there, until the flood subsides. // You are all performers and this score is now open. If it calls you, go there. // I’ll know I’ve now made it when there’s a chorus of a thousand droolers, lining the balcony of Carnegie Hall. // Here and There / Now and Then / Look Up and Down / What’s really happening? // After the break we will return. / In no time at all.”

[Alternately trying on a series of baseball caps.]

“Am I queering this?

Am I passing? /

Am I queering this?

Am I passing? /

Am I queering this?

Am I passing? /

I’m going to make a painting now.”

[Urinate on baseball caps.]

“Are you more or less yourself right now? / Kegel. // After the break we’ll return for our textiles and fibers lecture and find out why jeans are terrible winter wear. // Good evening. My name is Grant. All done. There’s nothing left to do but wait and see. // Hug your neighbor, hug a stranger.”

* * *
This piece presented my opinion on the place of baseball caps and their function as masc tropes in queer culture in relation to US-American culture at large. I also took jabs at arts funding culture, time and space conventions, and the notion of “making it” in New York City. The piece has a sub-refrain of returning to the body. Nods to Yoko Ono, and the dick-wagging expression “Speak softly and carry a big stick.”