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Wits Amphitheatre

Tuesday, 28th of August to Saturday, 8th of September at 19h30

Stormpie is about all of us. Who can claim to not being fascinated when ‘she’ was hauled before the courts, tormented with charges of assault and murder? Who was not fascinated when her husband, released from the perils of an unjust system, walked away from one prison, only to land into the imprisoned image of his wife? Did it matter that she became an offspring of a system that was intent on bastardising hopes, copulated with informers, and screwed lives with bolts of lightening/frightening speed, so that the virtues of evil will win? Whichever way you look at it, in those hills with silent stills, where shrills crowded the head that attempted to wear the crown, where we borrowed hope from tomorrow, and tried to divide sorrows into four rows of the four seasons, and hoped for seas to drown clowns that ruled us and made us to rue the hues we saw? Shall we sing the blues for this woman in her mansion which stands hip by hip, tearing lips with cold sores of four-roomed houses? Must we weep for this woman, who wishes to sweep under the floor that which floored her? Do you think she wonders, as did the wondering star if her scars will heal? Or does she lie forlorn in her sprawling lawn cursing the dawn he met the other woman?

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