Ice Dance
jason said it was all just light from windows
just light that had fallen and had stained the ground,
ground which would go away said jason
stains on the ground through windows
just light he said
…………………………………… just jason, standing
with his government name and identification badge
and memorized numerals and credentials he did not give
but allowed to swirl as suggestions,
proof in the negative sticking to him
like any other stain are you who
you say you are
……………………….. jason,
……………….. now nameless, behind the mask
face now jasonless,
………………………………………….. still with hands
former flipper of burgers and player of ball
now catch ave marias, detain them in the dugout
of some sunny afternoon in Chicago
jason jayson jay jameson joshua john
john jean juan johnny jack jason we are glued
to you like a dancer on ice, gliding on
around the ring of the rest of our life
now extended, watching you receive
and enact an increasingly worrying set
of orders and inside of us another arena,
with equal chill, where we stretch, imagine
running, the inevitable fall, imagine doing
the dance, either part, the silence from the risers
of uncalled upon names, mute power
of all those lap-held hands.
by Ingrid Jacobsen
from Rattle Magazine
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