Music, Circa 1991
this was when, even though we understood that it was no longer new,
(but not understanding that youth’s dumb green fields require at least minimal
establishment for recognition,
we thought ourselves so hip and underground),
it was new to us and we stood gazing at it, starry-eyed and oh-so-green, reverent,
because we still believed in reverence,
and in the healing power of the words, of the music.
and we still believed in Bobby Dylan,
had not yet seen him stumbling, drunk, muttering incoherently into the mike on a
corporate-sponsored stage.
and we still believed in Kurt, oh yes, how in love we were with our golden god,
and we did not, could not, see, we did not yet know that he couldn’t cut it.
and we didn’t understand Paul when he said
“sometimes even music cannot substitute for tears,”
copyright 2006 Katherine Andrews
