TONY is reclining on the stage, he is wearing ISHTAR'S cherry-red
pull-over around his neck. All through the scene - the monologue - he will be variously handling and fingering the pull-over. He is on his boat, sailing in New York harbor - on a blue day, the "old" skyline with the WTC in the background...
TONY: She left. So... I went sailing.
I drove her to Connecticut and then I crossed over, I drove over to the dock and I slept on my boat, it was the first night, I cried a lot, doc, I had bad dreams which I don't remember, and in the morning I took her out onto the Sound. As soon as I was out of the harbor, I put up the sails, right away in a butterfly, the breeze was so perfect, westerlies... And I let her go... And she took off, you know how they go once they get going, she flew, she hummed, she buzzed, she sang, like a fat hornet... Gosh, did she fly...
(He puts the pull-over over his face.)
TONY: I dont want this sun, Ishtar! I don't want this knitting of sun around my brain... I don't want this happiness... I don't want to enjoy... It's not... It's not decent, it's not good... Don't you understand? I am a stripped wire and I spew sparks in all directions... I am raw with pain and anger, and I am sparking with an idiotic, inhuman, unsufferable... joy... joy... JOY, Ishtar!!
Why, why???
Because I don't give a damn about anything anymore...
You know what, Ishtar? I have stopped being afraid of death, Ishtar, I don't give a damn, my death, that is, it doesn't exist any more, because, because, Ishtar, it's your death I am afraid of, and I feel eternal, idiotic and numb... I don't give a fuck about death... It could be as close as the water, I don't give a fuck... I'm not in it anymore... The boat is flying and I'm not in it... Only inside the pain and anger because of you... The fucking world is enjoying itself... I am not in it... I can't kill it... I'm just looking on... Nothing can get to me anymore... I can't bother... I can't bother... Maybe she feels the same... with this stupid, big soft breasts moving about her face... Stop hating me, Ishtar, stop despising me, stop resenting me... Stop it....
Oh, she still loves me somewhat... she must still love me somewhat, because she put on this sweater, my turn-on sweater, to show me her new breast... Angora and cashmere, a little bit too tight now, even more of a turn-on, she bought it four or five years ago, she has held on to it, I've begged her to hold on to it... She put it on for me... I don't think she did it without thinking... Yet, she was going to take it to Connecticut... I took it out of her bag, I said, no, it's mine, I need it... She said: "If it helps you..." Contemptuously... "If it helps you..." Even her contempt turns me on, doc... "Of course, dear, if it helps you..." I said: "You're damn right that it will help me, and I need it!" I want to be buried with this sweater over my face, Ishtar, I want to have my head wrapped up in this sweater... I am going to write a will, Ishtar... Right now... In case I die... In case I drown... Anything can happen...
Don't I love you, Ishtar?
I'm going to sell this boat, Ishtar! It's no use... It will forever be bound up with your cancer in my mind... I'll never buy another one...
All those cats in your lap, Ishtar... That loathsome yellow labrador licking your toes in your sandals, slobbering all over your knees... Those cat hair everywhere on your clothes... You're enjoying yourself, too, dammit... I hope she does, I deeply hope she does, why in the hell would she ever want to go there, if not to enjoy herself... but why, why can't she feel this need for me, why does she need to be away from me to enjoy herself? Because I don't have big soft breasts... Jesus... Okay, I am not your Earth Mother, Ishtar... I don't burn incense for my dogs and cats who have gone beyond the rainbow, I don't hold healing crystals, I don't burn perfumes, I don't beat on gongs, I don't dance barefoot in the dew, yes, that's what she is doing there right now, it's a all a big dyke show, God knows what other dykes are there, around her, a dykes' sabbath, they hug her, they commiserate, they wail, they turn her crazy, they rant against men, they turn her head against me... They'll say, he is out there, having a good time on his new boat, his ridiculous macho toy, his stand-in penis...
Oh but, then... Surely, it's wonderful in Milford right now, this sun is shining in Milford, it's green, the grass is smelling, the trees are in full leaf, the flowers, the cats, the dog is running, the neighbors are there, the gongs, the incense, the paintings of Amalthea, I like her paintings, I don't know much about painting, but I have always liked hers,
cabbages, caterpillars and butterflies,
she does hate men though,
why not this fairy world,
this dance of dust-specks,
not meant for me...
She's the fairy-queen right now,
she's conducting the rites now,
she's the queen, the victim, the Amazon with her breast torn off, she is young and her beauty and misfortune are what they adore, the witches, the bats
that's what women have been for, always on the side of tears and misery, pity and care, it's their old function, that's why they hate us, because we are going forward and they're going in circles, along the old circles of death and life, every birth is a death just a very short time down the road, they know that, we go straight forward and rush in a straight line and crash our heads against the walls, and they pick us up, and care for us and bury us, no harm done, inconsequential... that's why they have contempt for us and laugh at us, that's why they take the wind out of our sails, prick our balloons, because they always see us a little bit ahead of ourselves, spattered in a heap and ready to pick up... that's why we are enemies... because they always win, they give birth and therefore also death, they're our enemies, we're enemies, because they dance in circles, then why am I so mad at them? Because they're making her mad... They are full of sympathy, and of pity, and hate it... they have no right to have pity on her... They fly around her and madden her, like bats...
But we don't need them bats, Ishtar... Oh, it's fun, it won't hurt, go on, have your fun... People survive these illnesses twenty, thirty years and longer, the world is full of people whop survive horrendous illnesses into old age, I'm talking about our world, Ishtar, and it doesn't happen by chanting and burning incense, but through people like us, who go a straight line, women and men, who break out of the circle, who go a straight line, out of the bullshit circle, and okay, maybe crash their skulls, but we have money, money, money Ishtar, this a great country, what the hell else is money for...
If I had cancer... If I were found to have cancer, it could happen to me any day, as it happened to you, as it happens to anyone it ever happens, do you think I would run off into the woods and hug trees? Ishtar... I would hang onto you, I would scream for you, I would dig my teeth and nails into you, because that's what you're for, Ishtar, I would go to pieces all over you, I would crumble to a heap of whining terror, to a heap at your feet, I would forget everything, I would be a wreck, a speck, a worm, a squirming speck of nothingness, of terror, and hang onto you and nothing could pry me loose, I would hold onto your breasts as if for dear life, I would hang onto you like a leech, like a lichen, I wouldn't let you breathe outside of my presence, I wouldn't let you live, I would smother you with my need and I would make you deaf with my screaming, I would howl for you if you left the room, I would exagerate my pain and terror to make sure that you would stay with me always, I would be afraid that you might fall asleep, that you might abandon me for the time of a dream, Ishtar, I would just allow you to breathe enough, to move enough to allow for your survival, because I need you, I would die rather than allow you to get away from me... I would need you to the point of insanity, to the point of death... To hide death from me, that's what you're for.. If I had some bad illness...
I would be lucky because
I would have you, but you only have me, that's the difference, I suppose... But right now, you've failed me, you've failed me, you've failed me, Ishtar... It's not because you've cancer that you've the right to fail me, Ishtar, that was not the deal, I need you, you have to give me solace for this cancer of yours, you can't leave me like that, it's like us having money, having a house, having a boat, having a child, it's ours , it's our bag of shit, Ishtar, why don't you get this, you can't leave me like this, go off, leave me alone with this...
I hate that boat, I'm going to put it up for sale to-morrow, I hate it, I don't want it, I'll never be able to see it without thinking of this, of this sun, of this...
Obscene joy, Ishtar!!