I


i remember a maze, of corridors, of light
and we ran, mad and immortal through empty carpeted
halls, and unreachable nineteenth century rooms
and fish eyed ladies with hands full of religion

the tower stood strong back then
built of heavy slabs of concrete and memories
picture perfect on a picture card and you said and you said
you'd been in a graveyard with a dead old woman
and i closed my eyes
and pretended
not
to hear.


II


the first card she pulls is the tower
and she says
it outweighs all the other ones
and she says and she says
that fate rests in my hand because i shuffled
the deck and she says
it lies in the little wind
that i blew and that chance
has nothing to do with it.

the falling tower she says and she tells me the meaning
the sun beats down hard
and the smoke stings and drifts around the hazy summer air
and i think maybe it should be winter
but these things never work as planned.


III


you planned your death well.
the tower trembles
one night we went walking
and you told me how you wanted to die
and i told you too
down, down, farther we walk
down a dark street
cars squeal by us, the blunt and heavy instruments
of death
did you see them as what they were?
the tower trembles
you would have wanted drama

get the phone get the phone
crazy daddy is not home
he is in jail
where there are guns and barbed wire
a home for you, there
you told me about it so much
i used to think
you liked it better there than here

on the bus i pass by the place
where i think
where you said
you lived
i touched my hand to the window
my face against the glass
driving by
driving
we are travellers on the turquoise road my friend
and it seems like an appropriate metaphor
i envision the crystals snapping under my feet
and i run and you ran and this is a dream
goodbye goodbye my mind is full of grieving women
mother screaming
- get the phone get the phone someone's on the phone -
and i wonder if i called you now would you come on
they made phones to talk to the dead you know
phones and red roses
and crazy mother
and silence
a long silence


IV


Enter Death, with flourish

Death enters.
she does it with class
a sweeping entry
to much applause
and she says

- dah-ling -
i'm terribly sorry
not sorry, no, not sorry at all
she is not sorry
she does not bother to take off her high-heeled shoes
your carpet is already soiled.

she co-ordinates, plans oh so very careful
careful as not to offend
every outfit matching
suddenly, my heavy, broad body
feels vulnerable
stuffed so full of life that my seams are bursting
stretched like rubber and cracking at the sides and i wonder
what it must be like
what it must have been like
for you.

Death only laughs with a toss of her hair
it's dyed, you know.


V


along the street
everyone is falling in love
but not me
not tonight
i resist, even now.

crosses dot the horizon
telephone poles
and i think of silly little deaths
and how i elevated yours
you're welcome, no really
you're welcome
any time you want to die
just give me a call
it's instant martyrdom
when you have a friend who writes.

the tower shakes
it is the first card she pulls
colourful flames lick at the edge
of the picture
simplified people
fall out of the windows
you would have seen my tower
and imagined leaping to your death in the flames.


VI


you played pinball
only slightly better than me

little silver balls
half-naked women
red letters flashing
- winners don't use drugs -
clicks and dings and sorry
you lose.

you played at being crazy
much, much better than me

and you didn't try at all
it made it all the better
you just kept your head down
and no one ever, ever
tried to be like you.


VII


the tower falls.

it falls with a graceless crash, with a terrible
white noise, not at all with the grotesque
kind of beauty
you might have hoped for

but it leaves a mess anyway.
and i think, i think
that the crackle of flames
are enough for you.

the tower falls, crashing crashing to the ground
and i think you would have laughed, looking down
at the rest of us
not so intimately acquainted with Death.

i blow at the flames like a stir of incense.
i make a wish though i know yes i know
that the granters of wishes are asleep tonight
the smoking sky is dusty gray and it's far too soon

among the ashes, they are building it again.