THE STORY REMAINS

You walked in the place
People feeding their face
The sound of the hungry living
Dishes breaking
The door swung hard
Glass shattered
The waiter asked you does it matter
The crowd froze
Waited for you to open your mouth

A swarm of bees
Came out when you did and waited by your head in the shape of a heart
Leaning to the left like a twelve pack in a grocery cart
Or Fred Astaire
We knew you were there
We’d been waiting too
We couldn’t breathe

You sat by a crack in the wall
Your eyes glowed red
Burned holes in my ribs
Telling me a story
Every word a stone
A grape leaf
The ashen shell of the room collapsed and the people therein joined swiftly Lightly
They were bound to

Chorus:
Every letter created by god and man
Every purpose to put them to
They wait in your hand like a pack of dogs
Take all their signals from you

I noticed the roar of the falls
The pounding water
It rose from your teacup
You got up and stomped it down
In came the clown to greet you
He knelt at your feet in his colorful rags
Their kaleidoscopic virtues
But you seemed enraged

What gave you the right to invade my childhood pictures
The deep tangle
The dark woods I crawled through to confront my fears
The white birch and something waiting
The trees creating caverns
Closing
Trapping

You’ve made my life mean nothing
Put your words down on the small conference of my joys
My woes
My questions
Crushed them
Those of the throng
The crumbs of concern
And let the wind in
The story remains
The story remains

Repeat chorus

Down main street
Came the sound of the parade
Drums like thunder
The bubbling snare
Right up to your table and assembled flowing in around
Louder and louder the sound
And the leader locked eyes with you and they played it out

And they made their way out before you and the sky scraping buildings parted Like water
The children running behind and dropping glass laughter
And the road became brick
Became stone
Became brown rising dust

And the bands rags flew out around their elbows
Red and white and streaming so long was the march
And there feet beat the earth and your eyes at the back burning
And the doors passed now wood and open and swinging

Repeat chorus

And the tin roofs
Graceful and corroded to the color and the curve of the soil
And the band marching
Skeletons with heads high
And the beauty of their bones
Brilliant white in the fire of the sun and the vengeful sky

And the party slowed
And I followed you through the desert
Seeing them driven by the force of your mind
And you not leading but trailing and whipping them on with your presence
And them never turning to notice you there

Til you came to the woods
And the procession folded into the softness of moss
All their bones without weight and falling orderly under
And the shock for me of silence
And the sound of a stream
And I awoke long ago in that moss

Repeat chorus