Mónica de la Torre & Maxe Crandall

Emergency Theater

[In the previous mission there was a curtain. Behind the curtain the streets filled with people. What could be seen was merely present. Touch between bodies gestured this way, another way.

In our ongoing torment, aural repetitions sync advertisement with news in burrowing bio-chains, as we hear the exact same horrors through the gut, brain, ears. But do we act? What constitutes character? How does endless language blah blah tragic thinking on loop…]

Curtain.

[Curtains out on the street. Nowhere; blank genre.]

The clichés
celebrate themselves

popular commentary

so that the myths
run FREE.

INSTRUCTOR
You guys must be looking at me. You must be staring at me. Can you tell I’m telling you I have an injury? Can you X-ray my stripes?

$100 off
mia facchia
Bring it on

THE HELPFUL ONE
Here’s a brush so you can paint your wires.

And switch
The eyebrows

THESE POETS
Here’s a mystery where we can plant the seeds.

We’re all not
the same

FOLLOWER
You say that as if this is some kind of emergency.

Prepare
do not keep doors

THE HELPFUL ONE
Having to do with the seeds of discord? Oh, no no no. Where did Croc and Pegasus go?

Open this up
at the muscle

ORGANIZATION MAN
You’re late, as if you had a fire to put out.

sanitary care
Real soon

THESE POETS
We’re real EMS and fire personnel.

“No me quiero involucrar”

FOLLOWER
They tweeted about not wanting to get involved or something. And on
Instagram they posted pictures of Little Brazil chefs wearing the same
resin, odor-resistant shoes.

Wave in
Going over the feet

INSTRUCTOR
This is not TV.

Switch it up
fashion optical

EVERYDAY AMERICAN
Yeah, right. Which makes the emergency real?

We don’t want that foot
We don’t want that mouth

THESE POETS
We are actual rescuers employed by the city (although a
few of us starred in the original 1970s series).

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EVERYDAY AMERICAN
They almost cast me, but then I slipped on a banana peel on
my way to the studio, broke my ankle, and ended up in a
cast.

We’re reflexive together
How are you

FOLLOWER
I sense the problem is our positions. Are you writers of
some kind?

All New Yorkers deserve
burning quads

THE HELPFUL ONE
Riders? You mean subway riders? The clock is ticking.

Emergencies
are ticking

EVERYDAY AMERICAN
Yesterday I wrote All the world’s a selfie service on the back of a parking ticket.

when I get a little money
I’ll get one more bone out

ORGANIZATION MAN
Good one. Remind me to buy you that thing to hold it in place.

Next up,
biceps

INSTRUCTOR
Aren’t you going to save us?

Instructions
unravel

THESE POETS
We were hoping to step in here. We want to “show
up” for you.

and
listen

THE HELPFUL ONE
What you really mean to ask is did I forget to bring my
implements?

Lowering the speed
to keep strangers

FOLLOWER
When.

Slow it down
until

THESE POETS
When the emergence of the problem becomes embedded in
the message.

you are
the curb

EVERYDAY AMERICAN
You got it, boss.

A director prays in silence
An audience absconds

THESE POETS (to all)
You’re next. Lay right here.

Lights
up