Written by Ryan Walsh, © 2009 Reverse The Tape Decks (ASCAP)

it’s true, the signal implodes
it goes where she goes
the cogs all march along in perfect single file
from beyond the grave where dead men relay
synchronistic poems that call for civil unrest

and here are the plans that you tied into knots
and here are the props that were everything but
so dancing with statues you sweetened the plot
and this I bring to you
and this I bring through you

for days we replayed the play
on stage after stage
but never could decide on an intended meaning
the town was corrupt, demanded of us
a semi private showing for the master’s daughter

and here is the scene where I kill every god
and bury them nameless in cemetery plots
deliver the news to the public at large
and this I bring to you
and this I bring through you

we walked up to wind chime mountain
to bury our old postcards
she said: “I need to tell you
about the 322 people you meet in purgatory
and how I got sick of all these guardian angels
with more problems than me.”

years before we lived in the hotel we both worked within
where she attempted to write the great Canadian review
of the great American novel
a request from the 1st edition’s introduction:
the playwright wishes that you harangue the actors
with pyramid scheme pitches during the encore.
also a real gun will be randomly fired into the audience
during intermission.
please enjoy.

the curtain came down and the crowd rushed the stage
we fled towards the airport through gunsmoke and haze
our passports revoked, the embassy razed
and this they brought to me, and this they brought through me