If you fancy going digging through the archives of my blog,
You'll find a load of nonsense between reviews of clever plays.
I like to cloak my thinking in clouds of academic fog.
But if you have the patience, you can see my diverse ways
Of interpreting and questioning the way that we talk of art:
I won't say that I understand, but I like a bit of theory.
'Existence precedes Essence' but I am writing from my heart.
When I talk about erotic work, I'm not just being leery.
It begun when I was still at school (teaching not a scholar).
I went to see the avant-garde performing at the Tramway.
When I saw C de la B, all Glasgow heard me holler,
I'd finally watched a bit of dance that made me want to say...
I do not understand the world, or politics, or life
My daily wanderings are usually confused and full of strife.
But when I see the dancers here contort upon the stage,
I recognise myself in them: this choreographer's a mage
Who transforms the mundane into that which I call divine...
It's not some mystic universe but something I can call mine!
And to this day, I still turn up, I am looking for the peak
Experiences I cannot find either in mind or page.
When I turn up at theatres, I always long to seek
The moment when I see myself reflected on the stage.
Do you remember that time when Forced Entertainment rocked?
Or when Dom'nic Hill convinced me that Hamlet was worth a look?
How about old Softley and his willingness to shock?
I never get the thrill like that just reading from a book!
I do not understand the world, or politics, or life
My daily wanderings are usually confused and full of strife.
But when I see the dancers here contort upon the stage,
I recognise myself in them: Robert Softley is a mage
Who transforms the mundane into that which I call divine...
It's not some mystic universe but something I can call mine!
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