dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Sunday, November 06, 2016

home place

Last night we went to a bluegrass concert.  It was in a warehouse with echo-y acoustics.  I thought there would be multiple bands, but there was only one.  It was a fundraiser, so I thought it would be rich people.  But they seemed not that rich.  We had free tickets.  We went with J and G.  We carpooled.  I would have left at the intermission.  Ming and I walked in the dark.  He gave me a piece of paper so I could write a poem.

So I wrote a poem and felt better.  The jokes the band told--some were funny.  Some were dumb.  Some were offensive.  I liked that two of the band members were women.  I felt like they were my friends, though they're not.  They didn't tell any of the jokes.

Last night there were some strange songs they played.  One was about a rooster having sex with different animals on the farm.  (When he has sex with the cow, she starts giving eggnog.)  One about death was tender.  Who will watch the home place?


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