towards poetic ends
Punk Rock Paragon (An Evening With…)
(Dedicated to the musician, Ted Leo)
Such a wonderful evening spent — I think —
Watching a timorous weather vane
Pointing his bravado in various directions.
On a stage with several decades
Of imbued beer, blood and sweat.
Wistfully performing old songs of his —
To a crowd of adorning faces.
All while he rediscovers
That familiar sensation
Of getting lost with the wind —
Beneath his wings once again.
Plucking guitar strings like feathers —
Whilst chirping seducing melodies over
Carefully selected chord progressions.
Soothing that existential — sinking — feeling
One gets deep within their sighing stomach.
Uplifting the downtrodden spirits of
A generation of sensitive souls.
Looking for their lost youth
In the places they last remember —
Where the pain and angst of their puberty
Was left behind as if departing summer camp.
How strange it all must feel —
After all of these years.
Performing night after night —
Writing about war after war.
All in dimly lit intimate settings
Filled with reminiscing onlookers.
Where this indie rock star journalist
With a sensible sense of self awareness
Keeps introverted wallflowers — myself included —
Blooming in their awkward moments
Of quiet reserve and observation.
Such a wonderful evening spent — I think —
On this nuanced
Warm summer night.
Watching this timorous weather vane
Remind the room
Of reminiscing onlookers.
Of their sentimental
New Jersey —
Nostalgia.
That they hope
They will never forget.
Matty Kopf 