I went to a concert tonight.
Drove down to the springs,
me and my little step brother,
my little step brother and I.
Course, I guess he's not
so little anymore.
Seventeen and a senior,
where does the time go?
It was a long ass drive,
least it sure seemed that way.
We even got lost
trying to find the place.
An extra hour of searching,
to Hell with Google Maps.
However, we arrived just in time.
The second band was finishing up,
and the band I came to see
was to follow.
For All Those Sleeping.
Have you heard of them?
Neither had I on the day
that their guitarists stopped by
Hot Topic, as I happened to be working.
I spoke awhile with them.
Said it was their first tour,
their first time in Colorado.
I recommended they check out Red Rocks.
Great hiking up there,
lots of canyons, I said.
They said hey, why don't you come
to our show on Sunday?
And they put me on the guest list.
I love when things work out.
Course, they didn't play the song I knew,
but they had good energy,
and they were friendly and talked with me
for awhile after they played.
They had checked out Red Rocks.
I bought one of their stickers,
and later on in the show, I saw
the two guitarists I first met
hitting on this girl in striped tights.
I'm sure nothing became of it.
Also, as I stepped up to the bar
to buy a bottle of water,
this cowboy looking fellow
said to me, "you should shave all this,"
he indicated my beard,
"And leave the mustache. Just rock the mustache."
Funny enough, I'd been considering that lately.
His name was Kyle,
and he was the guitarist for the headlining band.
He was obviously drunk, and he held my arm
when he talked to me.
Think I'll take his advice tomorrow.
It rained on the drive home,
misty rain, sprayed up from the
tires of the cars in front of us,
water made the freeway slick, and
reflective of every light
that twinkled, flashed, and shone.
Made it difficult for me to see.
Think I need new wipers.
There were great branches of lighting
also, that lit up the wide sky.
Just one of those nights.
Fairly forgettable, but just
special enough to cause a stir,
to set off a stream of ideas,
to get me thinking,
to get me feeling.
I'll put the sticker
on my car when the rain
dries away tomorrow.
So even though I may forget,
I'll always still remember,
whenever I open my trunk.
Where do nights like this go?
Here I am, still inside of one,
but I know that in a matter
of days, weeks, months,
this present feeling,
will have left me.
A brief moment,
preserved in a poem.
Where do nights like this go?
I think
they go
away...
As we move forward,
plug onward and upward,
these nights are left
right where they were,
and it is we that spiral on,
leaving all in the place
that it existed that once.
If I am an airplane,
then behind me stretches
a white, fading jetstream.
If I am a spead boat,
then I leave behind the
two opposite waves of my wake.
If I am a comet,
then I have a long tail
of light and ice crystals.
But in any situation,
the life lies in the front,
and what trails behind is only
beautiful...
This poem is as a silver
strand of hair that has been
pulled from within my mind.
And as my fingers reach the end of it...
pluck!
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