The Starving Artist and the Chimp (Part IV)

Libretto for an Opera

Act IV

Sheisty is at a desk in the middle of the stage. The chimp is on a platform to Sheisty’s left. Francais enters stage left.

Francais

I started a new job the very next day
As an editor at a book company
Once my assistant had showed me around
I looked at what some writers sent for me

It’s called the slush pile and I dug right in
One manuscript quickly caught my eye
It was wrinkled and marked with stains of wine
That was very strange; I wondered why

It seemed to be written as if the author
Were held somewhere against his will
An angry rant by a hungry captive
It was typed, I thought, by someone on pills

This is quite crazy I said to myself
It reminded me of the lost notebook
So I went back to the Craigslist forum
To see what was there, to have a quick look

Sheisty was writing about a chimp
Could his tale lead me to identify
The person whose notebook I found in the park?
So I read his text with an inquisitive eye …

Sheisty:

I have rented this house on the beach
It’s cheap, so on booze I don’t have to scrimp
I can write all day, enjoying life
If I can just put up with the owner’s chimp

/If I can just put up with the owner’s chimp
|
|The Chimp
|
\… And I am one hungry, noisy chimp

Yes, I am one hungry, noisy chimp
And I want some food and I want it now
Bring me a sandwich, make it baloney
I’m hungry dude, come here with the chow!

/I’m hungry dude, bring the chow now
|
|Sheisty
|
\… He’s hungry and he wants his chow now

I could get used to this good life
But that chimp makes too much racket
You think he’d be happy when I bring him food
But he makes me a target for his chimp-shit!

/Yes, he makes me a target for his chimp-shit
|
|The Chimp
|
\… Downstairs he is typing away

He spends his day typing away
I’m hungry, I’m hungry, what more can I say?
Sorry, it’s just that I’m built this way
I’m hungry, I’m hungry, all through the day!

/I’m hungry, I’m hungry, all through the day!
|
|Sheisty:
|
\… He’s driving my crazy, that’s all I can say

I took him to the beach to help me pick up chicks
But he made obscene gestures; really sick
Even when I told him I’d make a sandwich thick
When we got back home … what a chimp-prick!

/A sandwich thick … what a chimp-prick!
|
|The Chimp
|
\… I know one thing and I know it well

One thing I know and I know it well
I’m hungry, I’m hungry, bring me a treat
But he just types away all of the day
And whenever he wants to, he can eat!

/Whenever he wants to, he can eat!
|
|Sheisty
|
\… I have a deadline, he jumps around

He jumped so much a vase shook off the shelf
Fell on the keyboard, broke the space bar
This is a disaster, it means I can’t finish
The novel that would pay for a nice new car!

/The book that would pay for a nice new car
|
|The Chimp
|
\… He can have food, but he wants a new car!

When he wants food he can open the fridge
And help himself to some wine or bread!
I can knock this guy out and switch places with him
I’ve got this plan in my little chimp head

Sheisty stomps up the steps to the chimp’s platform

/Yes, I’ve got this plan in my little chimp head
|
|Sheisty
|
\… That’s it, I’ve had it, you broke my space bar

I’ve had it now, you broke my space bar
You’ll have to pay for what you’ve done
We’re gonna box and when I connect
You’ll see stars, it will not be fun

Sheisty and the chimp circle the platform, rolling their fists at each other, ready to fight.

/You’ll see stars it will not be fun
|
|The Chimp
|
\… Lights out for you, I’ll lock you in the room

The chimp punches Sheisty, he falls to the ground. The chimp goes downstairs, takes some grapes and a bottle from the fridge and starts to read Sheisty’s manuscript.

Lights out for you, you’re locked in my room
Where you kept me while you worked on your book
First, a stop at the fridge and then I’ll read
What you’ve been writing – here, let’s have a look

The chimp studies the manuscript, eating and drinking. Then he sits down at the table and starts typing. Stage lights dim, then return. Sheisty awakens, realizes he’s been locked in the room and pounds on the door.

Sheisty

Where is that chimp? Where did he go?
Now I’m locked in here. Where is that ape?
I can’t jump from the window, it’s too far down
I can hear him! He’s eating my grapes!

/I can hear him! He’s eating my grapes!
|
|The Chimp
|
\… I’m eating his grapes and they taste so good

Yes, I’m eating his grapes and they taste so good
With salami, Jack Daniels and I’m thinking
I am down here with the food that I love
He is up there where the shit is stinking

The chimp climbs the stairs to the room and confronts Sheisty.

/He is up here where the shit is stinking
|
|Sheisty
|
\Here he comes now! I’ll teach him a lesson

Here you come now, I’ll teach you a lesson
I’m a human and you’re a chimpanzee
That means I’m smart and you’re a dumb beast
Now for a rematch! We’ll see what we’ll see

Sheisty and the chimp circle each other, preparing for another boxing match.

Sheisty and the Chimp:

Now for a rematch, we’ll see what we’ll see!

Sheisty runs from the room and slams the door behind him.

Sheisty

I’ll never let him leave that room again
He can die in there for all that I care
Now back to work on my novel I go
I had written up to the chapter where …

He pours himself a glass of wine and read from his manuscript.

Wait, there’s another chapter here
I thought I’d stopped at page ninety-nine
And it seems to be written in my own style
Could it be that the chimp wrote this while …

/Could it be that the chimp has written this while …?
|
|The Chimp
|
\… He was blacked out, so I had a go

While he was blacked out, I gave it a go
He thinks he’s smart and he thinks I’m dumb
But truth is hard and illusion is easy
Who does he think he’s descended from?

/Who does he think he’s descended from?
|
|Sheisty
|
\... And look, he even fixed the space bar

He’s even fixed the keyboard’s space bar
I can finish my book, and it will be great!
But hey, what the chimp wrote is pretty good
Better than anything I could create

Writers block has begun to afflict me
I have an idea I think you’ll enjoy
Let’s see if it works! You know what I’ll do?
To finish the book, the chimp I’ll employ

Sheisty returns to the chimp’s room, they fight, Sheisty lets the chimp knocks him out without much of a struggle. The chimp goes downstairs, pours some wine, sits at the computer and types. Sheisty awakens. The chimp brings a sandwich to Sheisty, goes back downstairs and types some more. Then the chimp opens a bottle of whiskey, picks up a cigarette and stares into space. Sheisty listens for the chimp’s typing, but hears nothing. He looks out the window.

I didn’t make noise, I let the beast work in peace!
At first he was typing almost all day
But now I can see him from the window
He’s down at the beach! Time’s passing away

/He’s down at the beach while time’s passing away!
|
|The Chimp
|
\ …I’m down at the beach, wasting more time today

Writers block has afflicted me, too
I’m smoking and drinking or just sitting here
Staring off into the distant horizon
I cannot finish this book, I fear

/I cannot finish this book I fear
|
|Sheisty
|
\… He cannot finish the book, that’s clear

I pound on the walls, I scream in frustration
Smoking and drinking, that’s my style, too!
Staring off into the distant horizon
When the muse takes her leave, that’s what I always do!

The Chimp

Smoking and drinking

Sheisty

That’s my style too

The Chimp

Staring off into

Sheisty

The distant horizon

The Chimp

When the muse takes her leave

Sheisty and the Chimp

What else can you do?

When the muse takes her leave
What else can you do?


Francais

So I picked up the manuscript
I had seen earlier
The one that was crumbled
Unformatted, stained

I turned to the last page
To see if it ended
But it just trailed off
And faded away …

The writer did not sign his name
Nor provide a return address
Who do you think could have written this book?
I can’t be sure, but I do have a guess

I can’t be sure, but I do have a guess.

Sheisty and the Chimp

How about you? Want to venture a guess?

Dancing Shoes

Yes, you made it. Didn’t think you would, did you? That’s what most people say. There are so many challenges, so many choices, so many ways to go wrong. Congratulations! You didn’t kill anyone – or at least not too many people. … Ha ha, just a joke. One of my favorites. Ah, I never get tired of that one. Just to see the reactions. That raised eyebrow you gave me. Superb. What a riot. I crack myself up.

Uh huh, this is it. Pretty much as you imagined, huh? No, I’m not “Peter.” You know it’s those other people who believe in “Peter.” Not us. What? Oh, I wouldn’t know. Maybe there is another place like this for them, with “Peter” at the gate. Could be. I haven’t thought about it much. But both stories can’t be true, can they? And where are you standing now? So what does that tell you?

I know, that’s the first criteria. That you believe. Of course you believe. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.

My name? It’s not important. No one remembers my name, anyway. But you’re asking too many questions. You only get to ask one. Take some time to think about it. There must be something you want to ask about this place ¬– or anything else.

What? That’s your question? Well, that’s an interesting one. I don’t hear that one often: Why did He rest on the seventh day? A few of us were talking about that very subject a few months ago – or maybe it was a few decades ago; it’s difficult to keep track of time here. It was down at the Strato-Cumulus Bar over beers, as I remember. … Of course there’s beer here! You know where you are, right? It’s the other place where there’s no beer. Just coffee. Coffee breaks every couple of hours. And then back on your head! Good thing you didn’t kill too many people, huh? Hahaha … ah, I tell you, that one never gets old, never.

Yeah, a lot of people are surprised we serve beer here. I guess everyone thinks we just fly around all day playing harps. I wasn’t a good musician anyway. I never had a good ear. Maybe that’s why I got this job.

So, if you had the ability, the power, how hard could it be to create the universe? Like building a sandcastle, maybe? So why would you need to rest afterward?



And for a whole day? And why not the sixth day? Or the fifth? These are all good questions, and our discussion was quite lively. But most of our discussions get quite lively, as they’re accompanied by many pitchers of beer. Sometimes too many. Wine? Yes, you can have some wine when you like, but you’ll see that most of us prefer beer. It doesn’t dehydrate you as much. Most of the bars carry excellent microbrews. Try Celestial, Infinity or Eternity. Those are my favorites. Infinity has a nice woodsy flavor. Let me know what you think.

So back to your question, how did it go? The heaven and the Earth, then the light, then the dark of night, right? That was the first day. Then the sky on the second day. After that I get mixed up. He gathered the waters on the third day, and the dry land appeared, and then He made the flowers and plants and fruits and trees. Wait, was that the third day or the fourth day? I’m getting tired just trying to remember the order of everything He created.

When we were talking about this over Infinitys that time at the Strato-Cumulus, Michael said that creating it all wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was thinking it all up. After all, if there were never water before, how would you invent water? How would you know that water is what you wanted? How would you know to create a mountain, before mountains existed? How would you know to make a giraffe? And why a giraffe?



But then you wonder if He had spent a lot of time thinking about it before he actually started working, like a writer planning his story. There was an Italian novelist who said it only took him a few days to write one of his best books. But he admitted he’d thought about it a long time before he sat down at the typewriter. I’ll bet that writer was tired after he’d written that book. I’ll bet if he spent six days writing that book, he’d want to take a break on the seventh. But let’s get back to the creation of the universe and everything in it.

Maybe He didn’t think it all out beforehand. Maybe He just got some ideas in his head and then improvised, like a jazz musician. If Charlie Parker were jamming for six days, he’d want to take a breather on the seventh, too. Yeah, I know about the heroin, but let’s assume he had as much as he needed, enough to play for six days in a row without having to go out to score. No, there’s no heroin here. And I said you only get one question.




So where were we? First day, the Earth and the light and the dark, second die the skies. On the third day, water, and plants and trees and fruits. On the fourth day … hmm, you’d think I’d know this by now … oh, yeah, the sun, the moon, the stars, the seasons. Fifth day, the fish of the sea and the birds of the sky. Sixth day, the giraffe and all those other animals, then finally man and woman. Right? Whew.

Now that sounds like a lot of work to me. But – and this is what we talked about with Michael and the other guys and gals that day – let’s say, for argument’s sake, that it was easy. Well, you know how when you’re at work, and you don’t have anything to do, it’s boring and time passes really slowly? And you get home and you’re even more tired than you are after a busy day? Let’s say it’s like that. Either way: He was tired so he rested. No mystery. Right?

But wait, there’s more. Because look at what it says in the book: There was evening and there was morning. We’re just talking about what He did during the day. It makes no mention of what He did at night.

And let me tell you something. You’ll find this out for yourself. You usually think of Him from the texts, always serious and usually angry; commanding this, commanding that, arguing with Moses. Set that aside. Because this is a guy who throws one helluva party – pardon the pun, sorry, couldn’t resist. When He gets in the mood, this place gets rockin.’ The beer flows, there’s music – not just harps, there are a lot of good guitarists and drummers up here, keyboardists and horn players, too – and we dance and sing all night long.

So imagine back then, in the beginning. I’m thinking once He had what he needed to make beer, he opened a keg and celebrated each of his creations. I’m thinking he drank all night. Yes, you usually bless Him for creating the fruit of the vine, but he created the barley of the fields, too, and as I mentioned, beer is the beverage of choice here.




So after a week of creating all day and partying all night, I’m sure he needed a rest. That’s right, I’m speculating. Of course it’s just my opinion. I said you could ask one question. I didn’t say you’d get an answer.

It was nice to meet you, too. Make yourself at home. The nearest bar is the Nimbus. Go that way and turn right when you see Venus. Be sure to try the Infinity beer. I’ll bet you’ll like it. See you at the next party. When? Oh, pretty often. Every week or so, or maybe every year or two, I can’t keep track. But bring your dancing shoes. You’re gonna have a great time. And always remember: Why are you here? Because you didn’t kill too many people, right? Ha ha ha. But seriously: It’s because you believe.

Starving Artist and the Chimp (Part III)

Libretto for an Opera


ACT III

Francais is at stage left, in a spotlight.

I went to work
It was my last day as editor of the opinion pages
At the local Herald

My plan was
To spend the day cleaning my desk
Throwing out old files

But the receptionist
Paged me to the front desk
A man was there

Bill enters stage left, stands next to Francais.

Hello, my name is Bill
I think you will want to publish my poem
In tomorrow’s paper

Francais:

Nice to meet you Bill,
I’m Francais and I will consider your poem
For the op-ed page

Bill:

Oh Mister Francais
I am sure that you will do more than
Just consider it

Bill exits stage right.

Francais:

I went back to my desk
I didn’t think too much more about Bill
The newsroom was abuzz

Someone had opened
All of the cages at the local zoo
And the animals were out

Gazelles wandering
And snakes slithering around town
Down the streets

Then I remembered
The notebook I found and the story
Of the artist and chimp

The Notebook writer mentioned
The Literary and Writing forum
On Craigslist

So I logged on
To see if I could find a way to track down
The Notebook Writer

And I read
IAA’s version of the Starving Artist
And the chimp

IAA enters stage left.

IAA:

The high had lasted weeks
Bill crept from under stoops to attics
To back yards

He wrote poetry
In the bushes with stolen pen and paper
He lived for art

Women loved him
Some nights one would take him home and feed him
Then he would leave

After all
A starving artist looks just like
A rich kid slumming

One day he woke up
And rummaged through a dumpster
But couldn’t find food

At that moment
He became obsessed with the idea
Of Henry Miller

Bill enters stage right:

Bill:

Henry Miller
Henry Miller, Henry Miller, Henry Miller
I said to myself

All day long
Henry Miller, Henry Miller, Henry Miller
Henry Miller

And into the night
I asked himself why I had become
So obsessed

I took a bus
To St. Anthony’s for a free meal but
They had stopped serving

I said to myself
I’m hungry here just like Henry was hungry
In Paris

The church doors
Were closed and I thought I might never
Eat a meal again

Tall Bum and Short Bum enter stage right.

A puff of smoke
Rose above two men who were
At the side of the church

Tall Bum:

You jonesin’?

Bill:

I don’t need drugs, I’m just very hungry.

Short Bum:

Here’s 10 bucks.
Go get us some food
Three burgers from Carl’s Jr. And some fries.

Tall Bum:

Hey, not so fast
Why don’t you leave your bag here?
But first smoke some weed

The three men smoke together. Bill exits stage right. The two bums take his bag and exit stage left. Bill returns stage right with a Carl’s Jr. bag.

They took my bag!
They stole my bag, my poetry
And now I’m stoned

Bill sits on the floor and starts eating a burger.

IAA:

He ate the food
The three burgers were good but then
The high wore off

He grew aware
Of his bleak situation
His desperation

Bill:

I have become
A street person, a derelict
I said to myself

My plan has gone wrong
I gave my possessions away
I faked my own death

At the beach I watch
The seagulls flying, seeking scraps
I’m a gull too

I live on scraps
Hey, that’s pretty good, should I
Write it down?

IAA:

“Are you a painting?”
It was a voice in his head
Asking him that

Is this art?
Are you a living work of art?
Said the voice in his head

Bill:

I need a muse
I will hide at my aunt’s house
On the way there

I passed the zoo
That would be a good place
To plan my next move

So I went back
Later that night with wire cutters
I stole from a shop

IAA:

He climbed the wall
Got into the zoo, wandered around
Under the stars

Bill walks back and forth across the stage, looking out over the audience as if they were animals in the zoo.

Bill:

I have found
A new kind of poetry tonight at the zoo
It’s animal magic!

The chimp enters stage right, holds up her hands in fists as if she were clinging to the bars of her cage. Bill approaches her. He brings his face to hers. She kisses him.

Bill:

I will free you
And all the rest of the chimps
Other animals, too

Dancers with animal masks enter stage left and perform. Bill takes the chimp’s hand and they exit stage right. The dancers complete their ballet and exit stage right. A table with a fruit bowl on it is placed on the stage. Bill and the Chimp enter stage right and sit at the table. The chimp takes a persimmon and eats it. Bill is writing.

IAA:

The chimp was full
And Bill wrote his poem about the night
He freed all the beasts

Their fate was
The same fate as the artist
The very same fate

They are all
Slaves to humanity, animals and artists
Slaves to humanity

He’d made his statement
And signed his masterpiece
With his real name

And brought it to
Every newspaper with circulation
In the tri-county area

Francais holds up the manuscript.

IAA

Then Bill moved back
To the basement of his old
Victorian flat

He wired it up
Filled it with light bulbs
And brought the chimp

It was warm, it was bright
The chimp came and went as she pleased
Bill wrote and wrote

Bill wrote his poem
He framed an indictment of modern life
He spoke for us all

For the abused
For robots, for artists, for women
Humanity’s slaves

All of us are
Slaves to humanity, slaves to humanity
All of us

As night would fall
The chimp climbed in his arms
To hold him close

Francais

Two and two I can do
So I read the poem Bill gave me
And it’s all true

Bill: (aria)

I, Bill C. Schneiderman, do hereby declare
From this year forth, this date shall bear
The name Animal Freedom Day
Across the mighty nation of U.S.A.
And that is in honor of what I created
By seeing the beasts liberated:
In the name of all robots and slaves
I freed giraffes from their pens, the chimps from their cage
Flamingos, go! Polar bears, dare!
Each zoo animal, no matter where
Shall know what it is to be free
To roam the streets, to climb the trees!
And so from the depth of our inhibited beingness
We shall recognize all of our animal needingness
To burst forth from our cages, real and unreal
To breathe, to see, to touch, to feel
The lesson we take from the zoo liberation
Is that, like beasts, we crave validation.
And what did I learn as I followed my bliss?
There is nothing so sweet as a chimp’s gentle kiss.
So each year we will gather and set the beasts free
And teach the children this example of glee

Bill exits stage left.

Francais:

I decided
I would not publish this poem
For Bill’s own good

So his work,
Like many other great poems
Will remain unread

As I walked home
I sensed a presence as I passed
An alleyway

A pair of eyes
Or was it my imagination
Glowing yellow eyes

Down the alley
Amid trash, rags and cardboard
Glowing reptile eyes

Watching me
Or was it my imagination
Glowing yellow eyes