They brought a woman from the street
And made her sit in the stalls
By threats
By bribes
By flattery
Obliging her to share a little of her life with actors

‘But I don’t understand art’

‘Sit still,’ they said

‘But I don’t want to see sad things’

‘Sit still,’ they said

And she listened to everything
Understanding some things
But not others
Laughing rarely, and always without knowing why
Sometimes suffering disgust
Sometimes thoroughly amazed
And in the light again, said

‘If that’s art I think it is hard work
It was beyond me So much beyond my actual life’

But something troubled her
Something gnawed her peace
And she came a second time, armoured with friends

‘Sit still,’ she said

And again, she listened to everything
This time understanding different things
This time untroubled that some things
Could not be understood
Laughing rarely but now without shame
Sometimes suffering disgust
Sometimes thoroughly amazed
And in the light again said

‘This is art, it is hard work’
And one friend said, ‘too hard for me’
And the other said, ‘if you will I will come again
Because I found it hard I felt honoured’