“O’Neill’s Ghosts” Play at The Odyssey Theatre – Opens Sept. 5th


September 5th – 8PM (Limited Engagement)

Performances: Thurs.- Sat. 8PM – Sun. 2PM

The Odyssey Theatre


O’Neill’s Ghosts, written by award-winning playwright Jovanka Bach, is told from the tormented perspective of Eugene O’Neill as he struggles with his latest writing while being haunted by the ghosts of his alcoholic-suicidal son, Bud; his career-plagued father, James; his dope-fiend mother, Ella; and debauched older brother Jamie. O’Neill suffers pangs of conscience while ravaging his family’s troubled history as plot fodder for his many plays, but it doesn’t stop him from pushing the pen.

The drama is set in 1912, in a coastal Connecticut home. As O’Neill arduously tries to concentrate on his latest work, he is haunted by the years of paternal neglect toward his eldest son, Eugene O’Neill Jr. (Bud). This relationship is reminiscent of the interactions with his own father James, mother Ella and brother Jamie. In the meanwhile, his long-suffering but dutiful wife, Carlotta struggles to uphold his privacy. The interruptions include a series of frantic calls from the family attorney concerning Eugene’s and Carlotta’s overwrought concern for their ailing dog. From her own perspective, the family’s surly Irish maid, Maude, grows even more disgusted as she tries to make sense of the family’s dysfunction.

Sadly neither O’Neill’s father, his mother, nor his brother can impress upon him enough to change the way he interacts with his own son, Bud. The more he tries to impress his father, the more Bud’s spirit deteriorates as it becomes evident that his father will never take the time from his calling to accept him into his world. And, just as O’Neill seems to have an epiphany, it is all too late as Bud takes his own life. But, the show must go on as they say, and O’Neill continues to bury himself in his work.

Featured as Eugene O’Neill is John DiFusco, with a supporting cast of Dana Kelly, Michael Vaccaro, Lisa Thayer, Penny Orloff, Tom Groenwald and Tanya Starcevich.

The production is designed by Jaret Sacrey, with lighting and sound by Kent Inasy and stage management by Joe Morrissey. Poster designs by Lara Starcevich.

Henry Miller

“Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty. Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. there is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, only to discover what is already there.”

Henry Miller

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

© 2011

“At The Lake” by L. K. Thayer (family foto montage by Kelly Pratt)

(“The Big Kids and The Little Kids”)

(Mitch Thayer, Kelly Pratt, Leslie Thayer, Lisa Thayer, Kari Pratt, Steve Pratt, Grandpa L. G. Pratt)

we rode upon broomstick horses

galloping through the thick thorn forest

dragonflies hovering

plucking the plumpest raspberries

ripe and sweet from the crowded bushes

generously heaving

(Mitch & Steve)

inexhaustible, our imaginations

followed every footprint

our shadows danced,

lit by the man in the moon

we left no stone or cartwheel unturned

felt the moss squish between our toes

washed our bare feet in the sand

of the blue lake


she was always there to greet us

and make friends again

the lake,

loyal and lucid, the sound of her

reassuring shore beckoned

waiting to cup us in her watery hand

guiding us

float our dog paddling cherub bodies


as her loving waves caressed

our rosebud cheeks

(Grandma Audrey & Westie)

beautiful, bountiful, bliss filled summers

roll off my memory like pearls dropping

one by one, off a necklace in need of repair


I gather up and tuck safely

in a jewel box

just as my grandmother Audrey

would’ve done

in the dense lilting air

mosquito bitten arms wave

in remembrance of innocence

of youth unencumbered

the balmy summers of nature’s breast

beating like the wings

of a morning dove

soft, gentle, humid

clinging to the child

in all of us

L. K. Thayer

© 2010

Thank you cousin,

Kelly Pratt

Aunt Janet, Uncle Dick Pratt, Florence, Mae & Audrey
At The Lake…
    • Kelly Pratt, Creative Life Coach I’m marveling at talent today. Specifically my cousin Lisa K. Thayer… This is one poem that she wrote that many of my friends from Fargo and Detroit Lakes can relate to… you can find her work at https://lkthayer.wordpress.com/tag/poetry/

      10 hours ago ·
    • Kari Bishop Kel..a little too early to cry but Lisa’s poem touched my heart. Happy, grateful tears of our incredible summers.

      10 hours ago ·
    • Leslie Thayer Mann Very cool Kel… Do you know the year on this or could estimate based on Steve’s age?

“Sundae” by L. K. Thayer

gasping, hot humid air
mind over matter heaves
when will the knock at the door
take my breath away

I peek through the shutters
uttering a sigh of madness
holding onto my silk cocoon
fluttering hearts and palpitating
dance the tango
of twisted canals in hotel lobbies
and cat’s pajamas

the thunder in my thighs readies
for it’s occupant, turning the bed sheets
down a notch
my jeans slide off my hips in a tangled bunch
waiting for my alter ego
my bedroom street smarts kick in
with baited libido

I uncork my inner monologue and hallelujah chorus
waiting for the dark horse
my stud, my mount, to come hither
Frankincense & Myrrh billow in the shabby room
scaring up romance
and cutting strings attached

no mercy for the wicked wench
who wets her appetite for Crème Brulee
whip cream
and a cherry
on top

L. K. Thayer

© 2009

Last Night!! “Waiting For Jack” A Poetry Theater Event @ The Shortstop Bar

A Poetry Theater Event
Produced by and Eve Brandstein, Rex Weiner & Michael C Ford,
Presented by The Shortstop

•    WHAT: Prominent LA Poets reading the works of Beat Era Poets… an homage, an invocation of spirits, and a rousing night of live poetry presented by the legendary Shortstop Bar in Echo Park
•    WHEN: Aug 13, 14, and 15, 7:00 – 9:30 each night
•    WHO: produced by Eve Brandstein, Rex Weiner and  Michael C. Ford,
•    WHERE: The Shortstop, 1455 West Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA 90026
•   CONTACT: (213) 482-4942 (public)… (323) 997 2853 (press only)
•    HOW MUCH: $5 donation

In a loose re-creation of the historic 1955 Six Gallery poetry reading, and other readings of the Beat Era, a group of prominent LA poets read favorite poems by Beat icons. As they read, they take on the personae of the various poets, and a dramatic situation takes shape as two offstage commentators drink, goof, commiserate and conjure up the poet-readers from the audience, one after another: all the while awaiting the arrival of “Jack” (Kerouac), who is always late, and may not show up. Finally, Jack appears (or does he?) and brings the evening to an emotional climax.

The 90-minute piece is partly scripted, partly improvised, not unlike a jazz performance where musicians depart from the sheet music to do their own thing. Poets are invited to choose the poems they prefer to read. The cast changes from night to night. As the evening progresses, the reality of the present shifts back and forth to the past. The effect will be a shamanistic evocation of the Beat Era, an homage to its lost heroes, as well as an entertaining night of live poetry.

POETS (only 8 or 9 will be read each night)

Denise Levertov
Kenneth Rexroth
Charles Bukowski
Philomene Long
Diane DiPrima
Frank Lima
Kenneth Patchen
Barbara Guest
Ray Bremser
Ann Waldman
Jack Micheline
Laurence Ferlinghetti
Gregory Corso
Bob Kaufman
Lew Welch
John Thomas
Jack Kerouac
William Carlos Williams
Allen Ginsberg
Michael McClure
Gary Snyder
Philip Whalen
Brother Antoninus
Henry Miller
Philip Lamantia
LeRoi Jones/Amiri Baraka
Lenore Kandel
William S. Burroughs
Ted Joans


Herbert T. Schmidt, Jr., Sarah Maclay, Bill Duke,  L. K. Thayer, Stephen John Kalinich, S.A. Griffin, John Harris, Pegarty Long, Jerry Garcia, Gail Wronsky, Chuck Rosenthal,  Cyril O’Reilly, Michael C Ford, Eve Brandstein,  Rex Weiner

“I Love The Way You Lie” by Eminem

Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that’s alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that’s alright
Because I love
The way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

I can’t tell you what it really is
I can only tell you what it feels like
And right now there’s a steel knife
In my windpipe
I can’t breathe
But I still fight
While I can fight
As long as the wrong feels right
It’s like I’m in flight
High of a love
Drunk from the hate
It’s like I’m huffing paint
And I love it the more that I suffer
I sufficate
And right before im about to drown
She resuscitates me
She fucking hates me
And I love it
Where you going
I’m leaving you
No you ain’t
Come back
We’re running right back
Here we go again
It’s so insane
Cause when it’s going good
It’s going great
I’m Superman
With the wind in his bag
She’s Lois Lane
But when it’s bad
It’s awful
I feel so ashamed
I snap
Who’s that dude
I don’t even know his name
I laid hands on her
I’ll never stoop so low again
I guess I don’t know my own strength

You ever love somebody so much
You can barely breathe
When you’re with them
You meet
And neither one of you
Even know what hit ’em
Got that warm fuzzy feeling
Yeah them chills
Used to get ’em
Now you’re getting fucking sick
Of looking at ’em
You swore you’ve never hit ’em
Never do nothing to hurt ’em
Now you’re in each other’s face
Spewing venom
And these words
When you spit ’em
You push
Pull each other’s hair
Scratch, claw, bit ’em
Throw ’em downPin ’em
So lost in the moments
When you’re in ’em
It’s the rage that took over
It controls you both
So they say it’s best
To go your separate ways
Guess that they don’t know ya
Cause today
That was yesterday
Yesterday is over
It’s a different day
Sound like broken records
Playin’ over
But you promised her
Next time you’ll show restraint
You don’t get another chance
Life is no Nintendo game
But you lied again
Now you get to watch her leave
Out the window
Guess that’s why they call it window pane

It wasn’t you
Baby it was me
Maybe our relationship
Isn’t as crazy as it seems
Maybe that’s what happens
When a tornado meets a volcano
All I know is
I love you too much
To walk away though
Come inside
Pick up your bags off the sidewalk
Don’t you hear sincerity
In my voice when I talk
Told you this is my fault
Look me in the eyeball
Next time I’m pissed
I’ll aim my fist
At the dry wall
Next time
There will be no next time
I apologize
Even though I know it’s lies
I’m tired of the games
I just want her back
I know I’m a liar
If she ever tries to fucking leave again
I’mma tie her to the bed
And set the house on fire

Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that’s alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that’s alright
Because I love
The way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie


Lyics from his new record “Recovery”