We play planet coffee table
Where our world exists
Underneath the coffee table
And within that world
There are sectors
And cities
And a burgeoning metropolis
Run by a monkey named Robespierre
And we love this world
And wish to never leave it
And we are sheltered
But we're young
We run out into the backyard
Where the snow is above our heads
And we dig a tunnel
That leads into the clubhouse
Where we decide that we will host a Blizzard Party
And within an hour
We have a fire going
From burning up our father's fishing magazines
And we're singing songs
And importing apple juice from the kitchen
And the snow melts around us
Because it's now July
And time to go in the pool
And we're preposterous
But we're young
We make an art project out of bookcases
And the sofa
And the rug
And we call it 'Living Room'
And our mother tells us it's abstract
And we go 'Mmmm it is'
Even though we don't know what that means
And when our mother goes to make us sandwiches
We get into an argument over whether or not
We should unabstract our project
And we decide that we should
And so we put all the furniture back where it belongs
And our mother comes in with our sandwiches
And says--Well, now it's even MORE abstract
And we throw ourselves onto the television
Which we have placed in the middle of the room
And weep for our twisted souls
And we're confused
But we're young
We grow up in tens and twenties
And when we come back to the house
After some time away
We notice Mom under the coffee table
And we think--
Dear Lord, she's lost it
But then she tells us to get on our backs
And see what she's seeing
So we do
And underneath the coffee table
Underneath its surface
Where nobody would ever look
Written in marker and crayon and pen
Are words and stories and descriptions
Of everything we knew when we were young
And we see that Mom is crying as she reads it
Tracing the words with her fingers
As if they could open a hidden passage somewhere
And we all gather together
And begin to read
The story of when we were young
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