Legs sore, and shaking on a moving pile
Of cigarette butts,
joint roaches,
beer cups,
spilled beer,
spit,
and sweat,
Staring up ahead,
Bug-eyed, jaw gaping,
Couldn't breathe right then
An unforgettable concoction,
Of grace, anger, intellect and artistry,
Being thrust forth through the
smoke and the lights
A light mixture of chemicals
Swimming delicately through
The now cleared pathways of
His
Cortex
Eyes red, out of his head
And never more alive
Than this moment
Gone in a flash.
"Goodnight, Kingston. Sorry about the terminal disease. It was fun."
Author notes
My vague, unformed thoughts on the Tool concert I went to last night, a truly transcendental experience.
Allusions:
Rosetta Stoned - Tool
Maynard James Keenan, Kingston ON, August 4th, 2009.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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I really like the style of this, the different length of lines, its well constructed
Thanks for sharing, have a great day!
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