The Grand Magic Theater Finale


The curse was to claw the earth with their hands
in the dark until every cue was handed up.

And then the liberation of light blazing.
And here, out of their roles, the cast comes back
in costume still --- how shy they seem of those rich
stigmata --- marking time, shambling their steps.
See, the stars, too, have lined up with the chorus,
turning to meet our eyes and gaze frankly
at last, face to face. And look at the lot
bust loose, stomp and prance, shake that dyna-mite.
There's nothing they don't over-over-over-do.
And what life they must have to be so different
every time we look! Like half-molted metaphors
 --- at ease in two worlds at once --- they ad-lib
and swank their old impersonations for us
as if to say, All that was just kidding.
This happiness is the serious stuff.

Their exuberance, their soaring
would break our hearts if they weren't making
everything larger, ourselves immortal,
with laughter. And surely they must know it,
singing out louder, reaching out their arms to us.
And who can say what they are begging and bringing?
Our cheering says, Freedom! Feeling! --- from which
they wave, riding high, blowing both-handed kisses,
What wonderful people --- you're all angels.
Not goodbye but hello, folks, welcome to heaven!





The Drowned Man


We open our eyes and the world is light,
a radiance that opens our eyes.
As each of us has dreamed it,
so it is now in the sight of all
 --- cordial and plain and total.
Why waken here if not in greeting
to the embassy of everything?
Dreaming, I knew it would be so, but not
how like my dream, how truly known, how glowing.

A consciousness gone, a radiance lost.
The world is diminished by a world.
The embassy has tarried on the way.
The common light appears, displaced and dazed,
verbless, unresponsive, a stranger
who has closed his eyes --- and if he dreams
our sweet breath after swimming and then
our little sleep, will never say; and we,
like the light, enfeebled, cannot wake him or speak.





In Theme Park America


the mugger raises up his hand
for no reason

in theme park america
every tree is a museum
every leaf a monument
each flower a flower idea
this slum a garden of garbages
the world a world still swelling with

its first inhalation of eternity

everything is larger farther apart
the squalor spacious clearer
composing a picture of squalor
misery is misery with the pure glow
of something like forever

by whose mild light we see a gleam
sharpen in the killer's fist

look the other one twists away
for our information
those wide startled eyes
are for our information
for our information
he is screaming
can you hear what he's saying
he isn't saying anything
he's just screaming
so that's how it's done how it happens

it's interesting

he's not screaming now
he's doubled over

and we don't have to worry
what it means
nothing is supposed to mean
that will come later
when there's more information
about the information

and so we walk around
in families and couples in shorts
and jeans and t-shirts and sneakers
solemn and docile
eating out ice cream

because everything depends
on going through these motions
the whole fragile revelation

once
we worried sweated I worried
once a black revolving thunderhead
opaque enormous glob of clenched fists
of motives and intentions
wanting wanting wanting wanting
each hidden behind every other
battering to get out
demanding to be imagined

it hurt unbelievably
it was horrible
that everything wasn't what it seemed
promises broken things blocking the light

we didn't deserve that not us
we were still good
in spite of everything

all that's history
a long eyeblink ago
then america became
theme park america

every tree is a museum
every leaf a monument
each flower a flower idea

who would have dreamt
a miracle could be so
easy

everything is so simple
so transparent
one intention smiles from every face
to be pleasant and to please
to please for example us

who simplify ourselves
to receive simply gratefully
what brilliant good people who have
the franchise on reality
thought up and made for us
this wonderful truly wonderful
and give us our role to play too
we please by being pleased

and showing it

addict
batterer
suicide
insomniac
senator
mugger
drunk
the baby with the cigarette burns

wherever in this great park

look at that one
look there
look over there
how amazingly like themselves

nothing has changed
and everything is different

and let's face it
no one needs poverty anymore
it's not doing anything
we don't need these poor people
so it's very nice
if they're kept on as the poor

things our eyes say
when we pass in the street

I mean we're poor too
we're visitors ourselves
look at all we gave up to be here
we have nothing but our wonderful faith
in all this wonderful
truly wonderful
we're doing the best we can

and because behind the scenes
another hand
is moving the mugger's hand
it doesn't hang baffled in the bright air
it's doing it

right now
right here
across the street

and later maybe we'll know why
our wounds our woundedness so deep
they keep crying out for some eternity
right now

we never
not us
oh no

every tree
every leaf
each flower
a flower

look look he's gasping
look he's looking over here
don't look
look on the ground collapsed
he looks awful
like a messed up balloon
look at the mugger he's crouching
he's feeling around in his pockets
I think he's smiling at us he's showing
it's terrible it's interesting it's nice
it's not dangerous
in theme park america
we're grinning we're
grinning back

look at that blue sky
it's a perfect day
it's perfect here alright

if only the whole world
of everyone everywhere
could see us
see how good we are
truly good
they would be happy
they would want to be good

please god let's not blow it
again
let it stay like this
forever

oh did we see this one before
it looks familiar
I don't remember
I bet you he gets up and walks away

please move over I can't see

the knife the knife again
plunging
for no reason
but it will not rend no
it will miss entirely

the innocence of everything