i can't remember the first time i went to the blue moon.
i don't mean it that way, but i'm sure there
are many
who do. it was probably 1999, way back when
weed was a crime, the
moon was cash only,
and you could smoke inside.
(everything looks better in hindsight.)
the blue moon's still here but ye olde
dive vibe don't abide; it's gotten nice.
the bartender was a little too tender--
smiling, friendly... one got the feeling
he was toiling late just for the money;
maybe an investor sniffing opportunity.
BAH! the moon is still great but where have all the
embittered barflies gone? priced out? time was you
could expect
an antagonistic earful from a crusty fuck who'd
lived it, an angry anti-capitalist
thriving on disappointment who'd trade poems for
beer and come out ahead on the deal.
now it's all very polite and quiet, which is... fine.
it's just a little weird to see it turn into a
church, hushed and reverent. but that was
appropriate for tonight's music. it asked for
space and got it. brad
dunn picked
his moments, rob
millis covered
lady godiva (ha ha), and dave and lori cast a
drum and cello spell. afterwards, i walked
home with jesse,
the city vague and empty, benign yet menacing like
the geometry of a spider web, mostly nothing but
what there is of it is designed
to kill.
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