Smoke and Hats

Not done with mirrors, done with hats.

The spring time, the happy time.
Flowers, sunshine and lollipops.
Helen is yummy in love.

Tomorrow evening is the time when 20-some Ottawa

playwrights pitch various ideas to producers, directors, actors, 

a hodgepodge of people interested in what might turn their name

into a household word. 

If someone can figure out how to produce the rhymed

extravaganza I have written/am in the process of writing, 

the new title of which is Helen in Heaven, instant fame,  or

probably, more to the point notoriety, will be theirs.

Depends on what a producer is looking for but they would not miss fame/infamy by producing a play that lays bare the moral decrepitude of everyone's favourite children's author, Dr. Seuss.

This one needs netting to
be fifties successful maven.
A Derby hat would be more to the 
point but we are one day away and
two days, at least, would be needed to 
fashion a Derby hat.

I plan to share three stages of the life

of Dr. Seuss's wife, Helen Palmer Geisel: 

the promising Oxford student/early married days;

the productive, successful forties and fifties;

and then her decline, despondency and 

subsequent suicide. 

I will do this in four minutes. Ta da!

Shroud works. Needs Revlon Fire and Ice
lipstick and I do have a tube…but where?