it was 1963
it was a cold war

it was two frostbitten saber-toothed tigers
shackled to each other

it was a suicidal promise 
we hoped we would never have to keep

it was a spy vs spy cartoon
a long overcoat lurking below a streetlamp

it was a bomb drawn in black ink
a lit fuse just below the word boom!

it was loyal hand over thumping heart
red, white and trembling blue

it was school bells and spangling stars
lessons on duck and cover

it was 22 earth orbits for Gordon Cooper
while Mariner 2 went silent and left home forever

it was Jackie in Dallas
with her bloodstained pillbox hat

it was the sound of horses’ hooves on stone
a blue-coated child’s salute

it was the shadow of World War II
still bleeding in the dark

it was drowning anxiety with booze
at lunch and after dinner

the Beatles were asking
do you want to know a secret

the Dave Clark Five were glad all over
and Otis Reading had a pain in his heart

it was the end, it was the beginning
it was a mad, mad world
                        

an underage girl in San Diego
dangling off the edge of the American dream
living with two young men
old enough to know better
in a cheap railroad apartment
at the close of a disappointing
cross-country adventure
almost out of money
nothing to do but hang around
in a rundown courtyard
a waiting room
for those who have decided 
not to decide
shadows
under an indifferent sun
in a place where the temporary 
can become the permanent
if care is not taken
where all the rooms are in a row
where she must slip through one
to get to the other
where she might accidentally weave
a three-stranded knot
and you never know
what two friends will do
when unexpectedly
they both love the same girl
how they will struggle 
with unforeseen questions
how they will need to send her away 
to kill the strangeness between them
to convince themselves
it would be an act of love
of mercy
to put her on a greyhound bus
with no clue
and all the blame
how they might follow her 
out of the LA bus depot
ride alongside
honking and waving goodbye
like white-hatted heroes
how their car might glide away
down an offramp
almost like pulling on a string
until a knot comes undone
                        

if you love her
leave her to herself awhile

turn now
those of you who surround

to your own worldly pilgrimage
for she would have it so

let useless arms
ripen into wings

vacant eyes 
incline to lanterns

withered legs
transform to flowing ribbons

for even now as you weep 
inside your heavy house of gravity

she ascends
barefooted

she may already be
bigger than the sky

limitless, indivisible
ablaze with immaculate light