looking for the one-man bluegrass band
I on the other hand
set my pace for the empty brewhouse catering to the local on his way
to his gig or his home after a day in the grind of the crowd.
The weather is clear and brisk
the streets are calm but radiate energy from the neon lights shining
from every Elvis gift shop and honkytonk BBQ improv saloon
People are casual but formal, the definition of hospitality
Brush far enough past the surface until you feel like familiar strangers
The energy brings out the philosophical pandering of my mind's wanderings
I pause sporadically to consciously avoid the awkward feeling I get when
I share too much too soon and then want to take it all back and start again.
I speak more than my mind's share and I forget
to ask the questions that haunt me long after
I return to the Phoenix desert rain
In Nashville I eat Thai and French and BBQ.
I ride in taxi cabs, mini-Vans, leather pickups & cracked Volvos,
I walk up hills,
I stare at bridges, and I drink by the river.
I see the moon in the hands of the Union Station
