Elbow and a kick
poem
For a moment in a tidepool
of sweaty punks skanking around to
on a Saturday night,
you elbowed me and I thought peace could be an option,
surely you saw my face though the crashes of cymbals and symbols and waves and limbs.
a happy dancing elbow that told me we both like this music and we’re both here and that’s ok and we don’t need to speak.
You’ve invaded my old high school haunts
the least you can do is not hate me while i’m gone.
You know they’re my favorite, you didn’t know about this band until I started inviting you to shows that you didn't want to go to years before
That you condemned me for going out to
And yet here you are; we are.
We don’t speak anymore,
the most I’ll get out of you
is an elbow and a kick.