CHLOE and CHRIS are in bed together, CHLOE nearly asleep now. CHRIS, with her head and shoulders propped up by pillows behind her, has been reading aloud from a book of Linda Gregg poetry. She puts the book down.
CHLOE
Oh, don’t stop, Chris.
I love to hear you read. Please. Please….
CHRIS slowly picks the book back up and resumes reading.
CHRIS
[reads] Alone with the Goddess…. Linda Gregg, of course….
CHLOE
[beat] What does it mean?
CHRIS
She’s thinking of a man she loves.
Haunted, maybe, since they’ve broken up.
CHLOE
What makes you think they’ve broken up?
CHRIS
Halfway around the world? By herself?…
You figure….
Anyway, Parangtritis is terribly dangerous for swimming.
She’s watching a group of young men, riding bareback along the beach.
Showing off. It reminds her of young men who showed off for her in the past….
There’s a superstition, in Parangtritis,
that if you make a gift to the goddess of the waters, you’ll buy protection.
Linda throws her gift in, and it comes back to her.
An old woman tells her the goddess doesn’t care for her gift.
Linda prefers to think that it’s a game she and the goddess are playing in the water.
From there, it’s up to you. That’s what good poetry’s all about.
It’s where poetry of the poet’s mind meets the road of the reader’s mind.
Poetry’s not complete if the reader doesn’t participate in completing it.
And you don’t need some expert to tell you how great it is. You know.
Anyway, I picture Linda saying: Isn’t life a little like this beach?
You offer gifts to love, and some get washed back in your face.
Then you have a choice: Accept rejection.
Or accept the fact that that’s just part of the game, and keep trying….
Never mind. The boys are still riding and goofing off. It’s what boys do.