George Lake, 1984

There is only one way to say this. It goes like this: you cannot have it back.

There was a lake in Wisconsin, a dock that was covered in blue

And guess what, you are running down it, diving into the water, paddling your arms

Then a dog barks, and twenty years go by

You are standing in a line, you are being shot by a firing squad

You wear the flag of every country, you are every person in this line

And you feel it each time, your life extinguishing like a match burning down

Where is the wick you’re trying to jump to, you feel your body tossed into the pile

Then wrapped in Turkey’s flag, you realize, I’m still here, the bullets missed, you don’t know why

And so you go back to the party on the lawn, the hill above the lake where the cabin sits

Where the dead are not yet dead, and the old are not yet old, and the children who will inherit this world have not yet been born


Abbi Dion