Poem text reads:
The fairies are dancing all over the world
In the dreams of the President they are dancing
although he dares not mention this at cabinet meetings
In the baby blood of the brandnew
they are dancing O most rapturously
and over the graves of the fathers and mothers who are dead
and around the heads of the mothers and fathers who are not dead
in celebration of the sons and daughters they've given the earth
The fairies are dancing in the paws and muzzles
of dogs larking in the broad field next to the church
The fairies have always danced in the blood of the untamed in the muscular horned goat
and the shining snake
in the blood of Henry Thoreau
and most certainly Emily Dickinson
And they skip in the blood of the marine recruit
in his barracks at night
his bones aching with fatigue and loneliness and pure dreams of women
and his goodbuddy in the next bunk
They are most lovely in the eyes of the black kid trucking in front of the jukebox
at the local pizzeria
more timorous in the eyes of his white friend whose hips are a bit more calcified with hereditary
denunciation of the fairies
May the fairies swivel his hips
On sap green evenings in early summer
the fairies danced under the moon in country places danced among native american teepees
and hung in the rough hair of buffalos racing across the prairies
and are dancing still most hidden and everywhere
in some, only in the eyes
in others a reach of the arm a sudden yelp of joy
reveals their presence
The fairies are dancing from coast to coast all over deadmiddle America
they're bumping and grinding on the Kremlin walls the tap of their feet is eroding all the walls all
over the world as they dance
In the way of the western world
the fairies' dance has become small a bleating, crabbed jerkiness
but there for all that,
a bit of healthy green in the dead wood
that spreads an invisible green fire around and around the globe
encircling it in its dance
of intimacy with the secret of all living things
The fairies are dancing even in the Pope's nose
and in the heart of the most stubborn macho who will not and will not
and the fairies will
most insistently
because he will not
In the Pentagon the fairies are dancing under the scrambled egg hats
of those who see no reason why youths should live to old age
The fairies bide their time and wait
They dance in invisible circlets of joy around and around and over the planet they are the green
rings unseen by spaceships
their breath is the earth of the first spring evening
They explode in the black buds of deadwood winter
Welcome them with open arms
They are allies courting in the bloodstream welcome them and dance with them
The fairies are dancing all over the world
In the dreams of the President they are dancing
although he dares not mention this at cabinet meetings
In the baby blood of the brandnew
they are dancing O most rapturously
and over the graves of the fathers and mothers who are dead
and around the heads of the mothers and fathers who are not dead
in celebration of the sons and daughters they've given the earth
The fairies are dancing in the paws and muzzles
of dogs larking in the broad field next to the church
The fairies have always danced in the blood of the untamed in the muscular horned goat
and the shining snake
in the blood of Henry Thoreau
and most certainly Emily Dickinson
And they skip in the blood of the marine recruit
in his barracks at night
his bones aching with fatigue and loneliness and pure dreams of women
and his goodbuddy in the next bunk
They are most lovely in the eyes of the black kid trucking in front of the jukebox
at the local pizzeria
more timorous in the eyes of his white friend whose hips are a bit more calcified with hereditary
denunciation of the fairies
May the fairies swivel his hips
On sap green evenings in early summer
the fairies danced under the moon in country places danced among native american teepees
and hung in the rough hair of buffalos racing across the prairies
and are dancing still most hidden and everywhere
in some, only in the eyes
in others a reach of the arm a sudden yelp of joy
reveals their presence
The fairies are dancing from coast to coast all over deadmiddle America
they're bumping and grinding on the Kremlin walls the tap of their feet is eroding all the walls all
over the world as they dance
In the way of the western world
the fairies' dance has become small a bleating, crabbed jerkiness
but there for all that,
a bit of healthy green in the dead wood
that spreads an invisible green fire around and around the globe
encircling it in its dance
of intimacy with the secret of all living things
The fairies are dancing even in the Pope's nose
and in the heart of the most stubborn macho who will not and will not
and the fairies will
most insistently
because he will not
In the Pentagon the fairies are dancing under the scrambled egg hats
of those who see no reason why youths should live to old age
The fairies bide their time and wait
They dance in invisible circlets of joy around and around and over the planet they are the green
rings unseen by spaceships
their breath is the earth of the first spring evening
They explode in the black buds of deadwood winter
Welcome them with open arms
They are allies courting in the bloodstream welcome them and dance with them
Artwork: 2021.67.1
The Fairies Are Dancing All Over the World
16.25 x 7.5 inches
Copyright: The Michael Rumaker Estate
Gift of the artist