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Babel Tower

from Staircase Wit by H. Letham

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lyrics

Well there’s thunder rolling in, I can hear it through the hills, 
and these fires of myself have never learned to sit so still.
It traces maps across my mind, from the present to the youth, 
using multicolored pushpins to connect my thoughts to you.


Well I’m your April, you’re my May. I spent my youth on a North bound train.
You only know how far you came, when you turn around.


It’s been so long,
that I cannot recall your painted face,

I know the words, to every song,
how could I struggle on your name?


In a barren western shack, there lay the egg that we would find,
near the Evergreen and Sycamore, its parents had arrived.

It took a glass of time to pass, before it showed the slightest crack,

when it opened to present itself, our child turned to sand.
And then the lightning struck the urn,
we fashioned from our clothes,
we stood naked in a field,
clutching the embers of your home.
Oh you lovely little fulgurite,
impressive little tomb,

the love we shared was not enough to but a breath inside of you.


Well I’m your April, you’re my May, I spent my youth on a North bound train.
You only know how far you came when you turn around.

So we built the Babel tower,
in the bedroom that we shared,
from 
the third floor apartment,
with the room above the stairs.

And we’d stifle all our noises,
when we heard the floor boards creak,

from that heavy footed neighbor,
that we had never seen.

And the language that we learned,
so new that it was old.

These foreign tongues screamed in accents,
that we swear we’d heard before.
So we pleaded with each other,
said “I only want to help”
such puzzled brows whispered back,
“I can only hear myself...”

credits

from Staircase Wit, released May 16, 2013

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H. Letham Sacramento, California

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