by Daniel McCoy


An impression—city in peril—dead city—equestrian statue—men in closed room—clattering of hooves heard from outside—marvel disclosed on looking out—doubtful ending.

3. Dead city:

I dreamt of a desert with spires peeking above the sand and towers bulging barely above the dunes. In this dream, lizards and snakes take refuge in the shadows when the sun shouts down and turns the population into a recipe. We once spoke of water doing this job, we prayed and fantasized of the Flood returning, of God breaking his covenant, of the dove circling and circling. Circling above its own shadow.

4. Equestrian statue:

Of a rider no one remembers. The beast’s eyes beam-beam. The black marble is cracked, but only surface-deep. It has songs within it that sound like the hum of forgotten gifts. Is a heave of the earth all it would take to unmoor the horse and his mount from their pedestal, sending them forth, searching, in pursuit of their four comrades, whose work is already finished? What word is written on the rider’s brow? Is it “DISSIPATION”? 

About the Author

Daniel McCoy is a playwright and performer living in New York City. His play Eli and Cheryl Jump recently enjoyed a run in the 2009 New York International Fringe Festival. His short play Don’t Talk to Strangers was featured in the one-acts night Crosstown Playwrights: Don’t Do Drugs! at the Red Room. As a member of the New York Neo-Futurists, he can be seen performing many a Friday and Saturday night in Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind at the Kraine Theatre.