AC

 

ACT ONE:

It begins in Fresh Pot.

 

You take a sip of your coffee, and wonder to yourself:

 

“Who’s Wesley?”

 

 

In a town just like this, under northern lights

The Canadian Wolf was brought into this life.

Riding into Calgary like the cavalry might.

Wes was born with a torch on a cold winter’s night.

 

“Canada sounds scary!”

 

Yeah, it’s a dark, sexy place, but it’s home of the brave,

The kinda place where a young Wes learned to swing an axe.

 

Wesley! Swingin’ that Axe!

Doing pushups in the snow got them lumberjacked.

Wesley! Breakin’ boards in half!

White-knuckled, strong heart, like a bear attack!

 

And they drive a Nissan!

 

Uh, actually, no this is, like, origin-story…before they got the truck.

 

Oh. Okay.

 

You could call them timber with the way they’re always cutting down evil,

All the babes in Calgary are like “Wesley, r u single?”

And Wesley’s like, “No. I’m married. TO THE WILD.”

 

And every winter, young Wes heard a Thrush sing.

A lonesome song that it sang before migrating in spring.

 

Trackin’ moose was easy. Tracking a bird?

OH NOW WE’RE TALKING.

 

So Wesley, packin’ those bags!

East-bound from Calgary, Wesley, this will not be easy!

 

Wesley, please be safe!

 

Please get an aisle seat!

Cuz Thailand is so far away,

You’re twenty-something and so cray.

 

O little bird, where’d ya go?

Well here comes Wes, our well-dressed hero!

 

 

With a map in their heart,

And axe in their hand,

Striding ‘cross countrysides, Wesley would ask:

 

“Have you seen?” (Have you seen?)

“This bird?!” (This bird?!)

 

And all the locals were like,
“Uh, is this bird a metaphor?”

 

Through temples and forests and hot crowded cities,

Wesley keeps catching a glimpse of it’s wing,

But the master hunts-person can’t quite land the snare,

This tireless seeker starts to seem despaired.

 

Wesley! Swingin’ that axe!

Cutting down every tree with a thunderous crack.

And when there’s no trees left, there’s a forest within,

And we Wes take the axe, start to hack at their own ecosystem.

Far from home with no Thrush in sight.

 

Seems like a good time for a real dark night.

 

ACT TWO

 

Let us assume for a moment, that the universe is made of a set amount of pleasure and a set amount of pain.

But it’s not equally distributed among the living, and some people have to do some heavy lifting.

 

Well, Wesley’s lifting the axe!

As spiritual debt piles up, Wesley’s cutting it back.

 

Our selfish acts,

Our evil deeds,

Absorbed by one who’s straddling,

Many worlds, yet stuck in one,

Wesley is neither moon nor sun.

 

As winter came, the uncaught Thrush flew away,

Forcing the strong and sexy trapper to curl up and hibernate.

 

Snow piles up,

Wes buckles down,

Yet hunger rumbles in them, now.

 

Seeking that which can’t be caught

Is the surest way to get death to knock.

 

 

Death can’t be denied, death can’t be cheated.

But Wesley isn’t going down that easy.

Bony fingers wrapped around,

Taking sweet Wes underground.

 

Satisfied, the specter laughed,

having trapped that which could not be trapped.

 

Death can’t be denied, death can’t be cheated.

And so Wesley died, yet heart still beated.

 

ACT THREE:

 

And as death met up with all of it’s friends and went:

“Guess who I just killed??”

 

It reached into it’s bag to pull out Wesley’s spine.

 

And I wish you could have been there to see the look on it’s face,

When it realized Wesley was halfway to Portland and it was holding…

 

“…AN AXE?! DANG IT!”

 

 

 

Wesley fought death and won,

But Wesley has sacrificed,

O you can see it in their eyes!

 

Yeah every battle that they’ve been in, every death that they have died,

Is what makes this person so goddamn light!

 

Life is pain and life is terrible!

But having Wes around make a life more bearable.

People of Portland: DO NOT LOSE HEART,

We’re gonna make it if we have a Wes in our backyard.

 

But they’re introverted, so, when ya seem them on the street,

You just genuflect and then you KEEP WALKING.

 

But then you run home and you tell your friends:

 

“You’ll never guess! You’ll never guess!

Who I just saw!

 

Oh,

Eyes like a wolf,

Dressed like a fox,

Stronger than a fucking ox.

Fast like lightning,

Kind like thunder,

Wise like a tree we could shelter under,

Soft as hell, divine connector.

Strong as steel, that’s our protector!

 

Well, if you think this sounds outrageous.

It’s…really not.

Because Wesley really is

 

The greatest person that has ever

 

Died!