I wouldn’t write at all if it weren’t
for myriad writers before me whose works showed me what was possible. The poems
of this series are small offerings of respect, of thanks, to those muses. –
Brian Beatty
Samuel Beckett
Center stage
a lightbulb
big as a noose
swings in the breeze.
A janitor enters
pushing
a broom a broom a
broom.
The audience
stampedes toward
the theater’s French
door exits
out into a darker
dark.
– Brian Beatty
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Brian's recent collections of poetry are Dust and Stars: Miniatures and Brazil, Indiana.
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Beckett wrote masterpieces in French as well as English. He was also equally adept rendering the existential and the absurd. What more does any reader need?
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