What is really needed is someone—not me, not you, but maybe everyone else we know?—to march right in with a nice flowy dress on and, during the public comment period, get all performance arty and read some truly atrocious poems. There’s not enough performance art at these meetings, people! Here’s but one example of what could be done:
Scene: Planning Board Public Hearing re: a big new development going in where there is currently just a big empty field.
Woman with wild curly hair gets up to speak in the center of the room:
“I have a statement to make.”
Pulling a long scroll from her vagina, she begins to read:
QUEEN ANNE’S LACE
A Choreopoem for Three Voices
At the locally-owned bank the women come and go
I come and go too.
Cashing my check from my laughing yoga classes I say
‘You are moving to the new development. It is
as it stands
as it happens
full of Queen Anne’s Lace
The cashier, she wears cat eye makeup like she
believes in the past
and skintight dresses like you do when you’ve grown up
in a small town and loathe everything.
‘Main street of this small town, it’s going away.’
I say to her, my sister.
She hands me my receipt and my $35.
‘I can’t wait to get out of this awful downtown. I hear there’s going to be a nail salon.’
For the last line she prostrates herself on the floor and gets all Emily Dickenson:
Oh! Oh ot[her]ed voices! Hear my roar!
The field—the field— — —
It is full of—
Queen Anne’s Lace—