Directed by Jeff Nuttall

Outside Peabody flats, we uncover a cache
of Health & Efficiency magazines studded
with nude women poised in mountains
lustily inhaling spring air. Naughty as that.

Our play is a happening, spurred by the accidental,
which is why I’m starkers (never knew you dyed your hair)
with the audience’s mince pies on Jeff Nuttall,
fleshy, naked, writhing like a sci-fi slug.



Joan Byrne
Oval Theatre, London, 1971




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