at first, what strikes me is the sheer
loudness of the noise.
thud, thud, (there's too much base, I think)
thud,
then the lead guitar
takes off, dancing, jumping, screaming
those overhead lights
making his movements less impetuous
more controlled (and his pants seem even tighter).
We clap, cheer ("flash!" goes the camera) yell
along with him.
I wish so bad.
He probably wouldn't do anything,
but I wonder, then,
what would Jesus
(he'd be proud.)
Under those lights
your silhouette glows gold
your mammoth shadow red,
small behind the
eternity of your one second gaze.
--12 march 07
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