When You Were Young

We gather en masse on a dry shore,
A sea of dead grass and thorns, 
at the dry banks
And the doorway of a liquor store.
Huddled close in this ashen
Land, we 3 plague doctors, 
kings, Our black cloaks, silken, shimmering,
Draped, swooping down like the raven
About to croak-
Nevermind and nevermore,

All that we had to offer.
And we would not speak, nod, or acknowledge one another.
We would not speak.

When you were young,
Hidden, blinded by porcelain facades,
Like white gauze, tied up in a bow,
As miles and miles below,
The words, all of which we'd know
To write and say and tell them where to go,
None of which, I know which to say, or where to speak,
Or rhyme in time, to place-
All tied together with white gauze,
Wrapped tightly in a bow.

Here too, the words, all we had to offer,
Were more than enough But they would not come.
And still we would not speak.

Through shuttered eyes I cannot see
With sunken eyes, I'd strain to see
The hyacinths by the beach,
With my own eyes, I dare to see
How we'd all come to meet,
In darkened corners, alleyways,
And shuttered liquor stores,
We'd come to rest our weary feet,
Within the padlocked door.

And of the others by the shore
Of rhyme and reason they?
Who eat when prodded and sleep when hungry
For dreams and nonesuch theirs:
To die, to sleep, to make love upon the sands,
To die and sleep and make love there by the sword.

And yet we fast for days
And days and days
To quip, "we are stardust. We are beautiful."
All while stars fall gently on our shoulders
In this dry desert ours.
We, not they, but we beside
This checkered, leavened shore,
Know why the c**k crows thus,
And why we eye him like Scorpio's in broad daylight,
And like scholars in moonlight, we prophesy,
Harping at the stars of fortune and goodwill-

To youth, we'd sing and ring the bell,
And times to come, we'd dance.
These were all we'd offer.
All were ours to offer.