Postcard #24

June 14th, 2015

Walking home from work through the orange glow of a Friday night
No time at all to catch, chewing on a licorice pie
I just finished a couple of mixes
Had a chat with my old man
Tried to sample that wonderful sound that comes when you crush
A beer can

From afar I heard a song I knew from back in the day
Dave Grohl's voice came from the stadium just a few blocks away
Then it went silent, I head him announce he had broken his leg
Someone should have told him not take that phrase "Break a leg"
Quiet so literally

But he kept going diligently, I'll give him that
And the city was full of giddy, forty-year-old rocker dads
Pissing in corners and singing "My Hero"
I almost stepped on a guy who was passed out in a sombrero

Couple blocks north, the crowd cleared out
In an intersection someone looked up and gave me a shout
A pizza delivery guy had crashed his bike
I helped him up and as a thank you he gave me a slice

I decided to take an alternate route due to construction
In the clear, dark sky I saw Jupiter's position
There was a blackout for several blocks
I put a letter in a post box addressed to myself in some future rendition

I made a beeline over the cemetery
And read all the names
A golden fox dropped a rose on somebody's grave
Not such a strange vision, tonight is magical realism
So we'll mention the mystic like we mention the mundane

There's something 'bout these early summer nights
Walking home through the city makes me feel like I'm in a movie
All the happy people, all the bright lights
The first stadium show of the year
The smell of hot dogs and spilled beer
The church bell strikes midnight
But the magic doesn't disappear