Marchetti | The Delirium Waltz
I cannot remember when it began. The lights were low. We were walking across the floor, over the polished wood, the inlaid marble, through shallow water, through a dusting of snow, over the shapeless figures of fallen light. I cannot remember, but I think you were there – whoever you were – sometimes with me, sometimes watching. Shapes assembled themselves and dissolved. The hall to the ballroom seemed endless, and a voice – perhaps it was yours – was saying we’d never arrive. Now we were gliding over the floor, our clothes were heavy, the music was slow, and I thought we would die all over again. I believe we were happy. We moved in the drift of sound, and whether we went toward the future or back to the past we weren’t able to tell. Anxiety has its inflections – wasteful, sad, tragic at times – but here it had none. In its harmless hovering it was merely fantastic, so we kept dancing. I think I was leading. Why else would I practice those near calamitous dips? I think it was clear that we had always been dancing, always been eager to give ourselves to the rapture of music. Even the simplest movement, from the wafting of clouds to the wink of an eye, could catch and hold our attention. The rooms became larger and finally dimensionless, and we kept gliding, gliding and turning.
And then came Bob and Sonia
And the dance was slow
And joining them now were Chip and Molly
And Joseph dear Joseph was dancing and smoking
And the dance was slow
And into the hall years later came Tom and Em And Joseph dear Joseph was dancing and smoking And Bill and Sandy were leaning together
And into the hall years later came Tom and Em Holding each other and turning and turning And Bill and Sandy were leaning together
And Wally and Deb and Jorie and Jim
Holding each other and turning and turning Then came Jules tall and thin
And Wally and Deb and Jorie and Jim Everyone moving everyone dancing
Then came Jules tall and thin
Across the wide floor
Everyone moving everyone dancing Harry was there and so was Kathleen
Across the wide floor
Looking better than ever came Jessie and Steve Harry was there and so was Kathleen
And Peter and Barbara had just gotten back
Looking better than ever came Jessie and Steve Leon and Judith Muffie and Jim
And Peter and Barbara had just gotten back And others were there
Leon and Judith Muffie and Jim
And Charlie and Helen were eating and dancing And others were there
Wearing their best
And Charlie and Helen were eating and dancing And Glenn and Angela Wally and Deb Wearing their best
Around and around dancing and dancing.
And our shadows floated away toward sunset and darkened the backs of birds, and blackened the sea whose breath smelled slightly of fish, of almonds, of rotting fruit. Soon the air was soiled with dust and purple clouds. We were standing, watching everyone else afloat on the floor, on the sea of the floor, like a raft of voices. “Hello,” they said, as they sailed by, “may we have this dance?” And off they went to another room with pale blue walls and birds.
And one room led to another And birds flew back and forth People roamed the veranda Under the limbs of trees
And birds flew back and forth
A golden haze was everywhere Under the limbs of trees
And Howie was there with Francine
A golden haze was everywhere
And Jeannette and Buddy were dancing And Howie was there with Francine Angels must always be pale they said
And Jeannette and Buddy were dancing And Roz and Denis were talking Angels must always be pale they said But pale turns round to white
And Roz and Denis were talking Saying that blue slides into black But pale turns round to white (…)
And the rush of water was loud as if the ballroom were flooded. And I was dancing alone in the absence of all that I knew and was bound by. And here was the sea – the blur, the erasure of difference, the end of self, the end of whatever surrounds the self. All that I saw was a vast celebration of transparence, a clear dream of nothing. And I kept on going. The breakers flashed and fell under the moon’s gaze. Scattered petals of foam shone briefly, then sank in the sand. It was cold, and I found myself suddenly back with the others. That vast ungraspable body, the sea, that huge and meaningless empire of water, was left on its own.
They drifted over the floor And the silver sparkled a little
Oh how they moved together The crystals shook in the draft
And the silver sparkled a little
So many doors were open
The crystals shook in the draft Nobody knew what would happen
So many doors were open
And there was Eleanor dancing Nobody knew what would happen Now Red waltzed into the room
And there was Eleanor dancing And Don and Jean were waiting And Red waltzed into the room The years would come and go
And Don and Jean were waiting Hours and hours would pass The years would come and go The palms in the hallway rustled
Hours and hours would pass
Now enter the children of Em
The palms in the hallway rustled And here were the children of Tom
Now enter the children of Em
There was nothing to do but dance And here were the children of Tom And Nolan was telling them something
There was nothing to do but dance They would never sit down together And Nolan was telling them something And many who wished they could
Would never sit down together The season of dancing was endless And many who wished they could Would never be able to stop
I cannot remember when it began. The lights were low. We were walking across the floor, over the polished wood, the inlaid marble, through shallow water, through a dusting of snow, over the shapeless figures of fallen light. I cannot remember, but I think you were there, whoever you were.
Blizzard of one”⏐Mark Strand⏐Knopf⏐1998
