How refreshing to read a play stripped of the temporal accoutrements that unwittingly come to define our day-to-day living. Lamedman’s play makes me think of Tennessee Williams’ dictum that he was a “poet who wrote plays” and Beckett’s unapologetic plunging into the heart of the human spirit. Bravo for letting Baldwin's poem take you to the watery depths where, as you say, you “need the pressure to feel alive” and for resurfacing with such timeless and timely treasures. Unlike poetry that fails to come alive on the page, Deluge, by its very nature, soars.
How refreshing to read a play stripped of the temporal accoutrements that unwittingly come to define our day-to-day living. Lamedman’s play makes me think of Tennessee Williams’ dictum that he was a “poet who wrote plays” and Beckett’s unapologetic plunging into the heart of the human spirit. Bravo for letting Baldwin's poem take you to the watery depths where, as you say, you “need the pressure to feel alive” and for resurfacing with such timeless and timely treasures. Unlike poetry that fails to come alive on the page, Deluge, by its very nature, soars.