I blow away the festivals
Flying whimsical
hairy-seeds of a dandelion…
My wish?
idealize… idol… legend
I wish to blow away.
I don’t do that
punk bands
Not the punk scene.
It once was my life
I lived intimately in it
like a noodle
in a bowl of Top Ramen.
Juicy and mixed in
Yet without an ego.
I still
Love songs
bands are a part of my youthful rebellion.
It was real, existing
my heart beat
with a movement beyond me.
I love but do not idolize.
My only experience
of expectation
Is my ignorance
That I was once a friend
Who is still loved in return.
I chip away at this need
Of being there…
With them
Their friendship or love…
All contained in a song
A moment ….
Mine only mine.
No Icons
No legends
Just punks
Just people or a person.
Maybe a lingering friend
A stray
Lightning strikes
only once
For me.
The whimsical seeds
Float away away
Slowly away.
