Magister Prometheus, Magister Prospero

This mask?
I will set it aside.
This fourth wall?
Through it I will stride,
up the aisle, past the audience, out the exit.

But before I do
I’ll cast one last aside, Iago-ish and snide,
“Demand me nothing.
What you know, you know.
From this time forth
I ne’er will speak a word.”

Only then will I become
a human once again.
Thence, till summer’s end
when I re-don the mask anon
and mount the stage
and beg indulgence not permission once again,

one more time
this goodfellow
shall amend.