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a young girl
is somewhere waiting on
the boy she loves; she
has seen him everyday for the last
five years but today he will not come.
an old man
is down by a river
standing at the spot
where he saw his only son drown.
a woman who never knew her
mother but knew her
mother did not love her
is somewhere walking the
streets.
i travel to all these places,
long to capture that
which seems to be our shadow,
swells with absurdity
recalls jobs we can't have,
hotels we can't enter
restaurants which show us doors
instead of menus.
ours is a deep dyed emotion;
marching bands
ragtimers
banjo pickers
barrelhouse ballers
dangerous dance halls
segregated neighborhoods
too proud to weep what it lives.
we are that drama.
we are this
unusual arrangement
that speaks for the millions,
that is why this song is
full of our dreams
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