Dear and the Headlights

We made the loathsome conquest of a travel to southern colorado springs to witness Dear and the Headlights create intoxicating harmonies via strings and rhythmic banging. They pulled it off spectacularly well, just like every one of the 27 odd times I have seen them. Most importantly, they are our buddies and it was even better hugging their sweaty bodies in their plaid-clad. Now I am sitting here on an ugly sofa with my puppy tugging on my ear and a swirly cerebral sensation. Here is to late nights. And stupid drives. God Fuckin Bless 

The necks of cobras

It was an unexpected invitation

Which left me behind the wheel

Gripping it like the neck of a cobra

Accelerating as the dashing ivory lines

Paced straight forward

Sober and hopeful

I spotted her there in the crowd

Walnut flowing hair and the figure of a flower

Expecting me

She lit up when our eyes met

Every memory and recognition

Racing circles through our glance and glands

Our bodies connected

I wanted to tear her away from there

Pulling a flower from its roots

And place her in my garden

Where I could care for her under the sun

And watch her maturation 

But we soon parted

And I left her under that dark roof

I once again gripping the necks of cobras

But no backbone to be found

My walnut flower