August 2
(Remember the Dreamer)

The gift of life remembered when friends show up
dead, one gift we must learn to savor
the gift of the
dead is remembering we are alive.

Who's going to write the elegy, sing YOUR song in death, who's
going to keep your mantra burning, going
to push that resonance now that we cannot say your last name? Who can
hold your memory, rattle your deer toe shaker, conjure
the shaman dream, hold the
hands of the dead man & dance hold the hands
of the dead man & dance hold
the memory of our
dead shaker doctor man & let   him   dance?

Alive, you were alive as they come     vibrant
juice dripped from your chin
I can still see you eating chicken
I can still hear your song
and your belly

laugh.

                      ALIVE
your hug in the Broadway Market
who knew - never again
incense and memories
& the ground shook
when you entered heaven.

                      ALIVE
a son
      a mother
      a brother
they all know your name
your third name
& the Salish say
not saying the name
we knew you by
                                         speeds
your flight beyond.

                      ALIVE

a fistful of senses
and more yet
first a rebel, jonesing
& then to nurture
every dream you see dreams

                            are like flowers
                               you said.

There is always room for one more
          flower.

                      ALIVE
you cleansed our house.

                      ALIVE
you cleansed our space.

                      ALIVE
you led our way
taught your way
the way of your people
gifted us w/ song
w/ merry laughter
what made the planet rumble.

                      ALIVE he cried
I wanted you
                                                                 ALIVE
didn't you have work undone?
What about your place by the sea?
What about your planetary drum tour?
What about your son?

                      ALIVE
in the dream of dreamers

                      ALIVE
in the cedar tree
dancing                                     singing
                                                      praying       healing
w/ me.

                      ALIVE
in the boat people's medicine
what they forgot

BONG!
BONG!
BONG!

                      ALIVE
as the stellar jay bounce
on roof top
cackle of crow
glide of hawk
on August sky blue
                                                            vapor.

                      ALIVE                  w/ every dream become real.

Who's going to hold the hands of the dead?

Who's going to sing their song
going to make their legacy of justice prevail, who's going
to figure your next step, dance it for you
hold your hand in death, talk to
the presence beyond the veil, hold the
hands of dead friends who know
of no way to be w/ us, no way to touch
the grief-struck survivors  and help them remember you are
dead  but    now   you   are   all   of   this  -  shaman ubiquitous.

Fred:      they won't let me say your name
say it speeds up your flight beyond.
So let me dance w/ you one more time.
Let my memory of you be
your     belly
laugh.
Let my last word to you
always be
             haichka.

The gift of life remembered when friends show up
dead, one gift we must learn to savor
the gift of the
dead is remembering    we     are     alive.

8.2.01
Phrase acrostic quotes from  
The Sun Unwound: Original Texts from Occupied America,
page 111
Translated by Ed Dorn & Gordon Brotherton