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 heard 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