Pulling Touch

Breathe deep
fill up with relief
Don't go mad,
Don't go mad.

Come to me, come to me,
Set me free set me free

20 years ago, most of the people I knew unanimously loved Poi Dog Pondering.  Last night, a couple of them even got their middle aged asses up and joined us.

I haven't gone to see Poi Dog since R was drinking, other than a couple of times at Summerfest.  But there, it was always densely packed with folks who drove up from Chicago, and I was spoiled by seeing them at Shank.  Which was where they were last night, playing for me and 200 other close friends.  No movie loops, no dancing hippies, just a tight nine piece playing the songs they created and spreading joy as best they know how.

A lifetime of accomplishments of which the dirt knows none,
only in death can one truly return
Return the carrots, the apples and potatoes,
The chickens, the cows, the fish and tomatoes.
In one glorious swoop, let the deed be done
and bury me deep so that I can be one...

And all around my muscle and all around my bone,
don't incinerate me or seal me from
the dirt which bore me, the bed that which from
the rain falls upon and the fruit comes from

For the dirt is a blanket, no fiery tomb,
No punishment, reward, or pearly white room
And you who say that in death we will pay,
The dead they can't hear a word that you say

Your words are not kind, sober or giving,
they only put fear in the hearts of the living
So put away your tongues and roll up your sleeves,
and pick up your shovel and bury me deep.

I started to say that I was hoping that one of these days I would be able to see somebody play without breaking into tears.  But as I started writing this post, I realized that if I ever stopped, it would be reason for concern.  

Until then, every couple of weeks one band or another will do their part to keep me ....