By dbanach - Posted on 28 January 2017


by Paul Goodspeed


It begins with background chatter crackling like a comfortable fire on a cold night

And home-baked bread that tastes like hospitality, sweeter than hand-harvested honey

Then she steps up to the mic and reels us in, collecting the scatter and quelling the chatter

And despite quirky quips called out with a smile, the program commences


With each song I float away on angelic acoustic music

Each lyric carefully carved with exquisite care

Each song its own path to profundity


I remember when I first stepped into the room like a child taking his first steps

Some sophomore sunset evening in spring or summer

Hooked, and every month I’m reeled back in


It’s a safe harbor ‘midst the storms of college

A source of sustenance more nourishing than any mere food

Someplace to let my raw words drift into the silences like smoke


I won’t remember the words, the song titles, the lyrics or rhymes

I won’t remember the specific stacatto bursts of a certain someone’s sweary streams-of-consciousness

I won’t recall particular poems, the seams and joints of their careful construction


I’ll remember the feeling of flying, letting those songs carry me to the clouds

I’ll remember to “shake the dust”

And I’ll always, always remember to fuck Aquinas!


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