Often you escape- ironically enough
After you forcefully invade- your image old and rough
Your actors bid me farewell, and dance their dance of no shame,
And I carry on my functions.
The faces in the crowds have become inmates in a world,
Numbers etched into our hearts and in our wrists finely purled.
And I see the curious eyes that once belonged to Ray,
And Volney and China doll, and the madmen in the Bay.
And even as your rusted bars and grasses go unremembered,
Quentin and I discuss the human weight of gold and pride dismembered.
And even as the rock fades from view,
I know that we're still holding the sea-rusted key.
