When the music reached that one mystic loud,
you put your tiny arms around my waist.
When perception squeezed because of the croud,
you squeezed me until my fat old heart raced.
When the air smelled of cigarettes and weed,
I smelt your hair gel mixed with shampoo.
when the world swayed to guitar player's lead,
I knew that it lead me straight to you.
I caressed the smoothness of your shirt.
I heard the roughness of the singer's voice
when you held me so hard it started to hurt
your muscles pulsed with the rock and roll noise.
when fingers lingered as we pulled away,
the hug and the music made my day.
6/12/04
Note: I am retyping this in November of 2019. I have no idea who Jennifer was. I've known a few women named Jennifer. I have no idea what concert I was at in June of '04. My handwriting is always terrible, but it doesn't look like "I've been drinking" level of bad, so I can''t blame booze, although I am use at that age if I was at a concert, I was drinking. In some ways, the fact that I remember nothing about this moment but captured it in a poem makes it better than if I remembered it all.
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