There's no use
Trying to write
With a green gardening glove
Fixed to my right hand
Like skin
So let's rock
*snap*
The crowd disperses
Leaves the floor
In front of the stage
Empty
For a dancer
And the lights that surround her
Our hearts surrounding her
Our love for her
A quarter of a century deep
Had been locked up in a moment
An explosion
In the bank vault of our hearts
Swallowed whole in our sleep
But we're no longer holding our breath
For that love to find a way out
To snap out of this coma and
Find us, find me
I've only been a muffin for 25 years
but I've always been Laura
Find her. Find Laura.
Take her from the trees
Out of the gold casing of death
We suffer everytime we say goodnight
So instead of dying we heal
We save this place and we save our hearts
From the cold guild of gold
From shovels and jumping men
Save us from the trees
And the prophecies of logs
Held dearly by a lonely woman who listens well.
Please, find her and save us, Hawk.
So we can spin out and ask you
To tell the truth under oath
The judgment of the destroyer
The experiment, your mother of abominations
American made and fed equal parts
Crude oil and hope.
Drenched in lattes and blood
Against the backdrop of a glass box
That holds secrets like a diary holds memories
Detailed and out of time.
We ask over and over
If you had so much sand
Would you blow it up
Light it up, drink it full
To follow the path to
Your childhood haunts
To a tree in the woods
Where owls are true to their word
And good men gather
Where their fathers used to take them
To tell stories about kings
In tiny palaces and dogs loose
In municipal buildings
Or would you keep it in your pocket
Keep it to yourself
Hidden in the echo of a drunk
In the cell across the isle
In a booth on the other side
Of a bar you like to frequent
Just so you can see the MC dance
To invisible bands
And watch young babes
Turn into tough dames
After an asshole in the booth beside them
Lights up under the no smoking sign
And sooty specters
Leave a wide trail of blood and charcoal
For the dying to follow
We watch the path
Wherever it takes us
East, south, inside out
Up two flights of stairs
To a place that matters
To a man that matters
In the hearts of those
Even though we cannot see him
From those who pilgrimage in the footsteps
Of men with blackened hearts
And women with broken souls
We watch the steps
Of a stumbling fool
Given rides and answers
To his calls for help
Given chocolate cake
And the family he needed
Son and brothers all
Together, a family forms
Around a table at a diner
Music playing off the rooftops
Of the nearby peaks
The distant ramblings
Of unrest on the wind
To the pitch of a fork against
An empty plate
And a gunshot, a bullet
Through the window
The shattering of glass
Full of vodka and tomato juice
Unceremoniously poured
And swallowed to keep inner demons
At bay against the rising tide
Of unnatural forces
Sit where you were before.
By the end will we know
Who the tulpas are
Or who created them?
Will we trust our family
And all the early endings
Or turn back to accountants
With questions of ownership?
Do we trust the dancer
As she sways through the lights
Do we trust our ears yet?
Is that music playing backwards
Or are we finally falling?
Falling.
The golden glow is the mark of death
And light created by a desire for more
Against floral wallpaper in a little town
In the Pacific Northwest
with a population of about as many of us
As are willing to stay
In a little town called Twin Peaks.
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