Uta Hagen calls me out
from the grave:
“You’ve gotten lazy,
complacent.
You need to begin again,
reinvigorate.
Find the continuity
of your character.
Stop fucking it up
and phoning it in.”
Stella Adler,
in an adjacent grave,
rolls over and nods.
Nearby, Meisner and Stanislavsky
snicker while playing chess
amongst the headstones and gargoyles.
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