We like texture

I found two old friends today, the way you find old newspapers and see those bits, that really when you look at them, are "found poetry", only you have to classify them that way. Otherwise they are just newspaper.

I found them. It was special. I will make it work.

And then:

I was with my long-road friends tonight. The ones from way back, three years ago.

And maybe, if I was lucky, I managed to let something go.

We danced in the Church parking lot. We cavorted. AC/DC pumped from the speakers. We were on a "Highway to Hell". We were "Thunderstruck". We stamped in the puddles, splashed. My green curdoroy pants got soaking wet. I layed myself out on the bonnet. I did Chuck Berry duckwalks around the car. We danced around it like it meant something. It didn't, the moment did.

I was freeing myself.

You have to understand that we were right in front of the door of the church.

I though about that door. Eventually I duckwalked right up to it. I don't hate their symbols and heroes.

I gave Jesus my love... a cross on his house's door and a thumbs up... and I danced further, with flesh-and-blood friends.

We risked the road. We arrived. There were props. An apron, an Annie (the musical) wig, stilletos. Apron.

YEs, the night. Fucking monday.


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