I recovered from a night of bliss and love and everything a young soul could ask for.
I danced; I drank; I sang; I gasped.
I gasped at the dwindling numbers of my generation as we fight a never ending war.
As we sang “American Pie“.
As we drank Bacardi and drove aimlessly hitting children crossing the road.
We danced to the music being whispered into our ears.
And the love poured out into our wine glasses and we tipped them without care.

We rushed the floor with gurneys and IV’s .
We laughed at the sight of HIV.
And bowed at Cancer.
And mingled with Heart Disease.

Suicide our favorite friend.
Euthanasia our secret lover.

Dresses designed by fear.
Tuxedo’s designed by dumb pride.
The media DJ’d.
And the radio decorated.
The internet chaperoned.

The road to recovery is slick ice and tornado fields.
Beach houses home tsunami’s.
Under my bed lies a cyclone.

But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I recovered from a night of bliss and love and everything a young soul could ask for.
I danced; I drank;  I sang; I gasped.
I gasped at the sparkling lights highlighting the gymnasium.
As we sang “America the Beautiful”.
As we drank spring waters and drove with a purpose avoiding young passerby’s.
We danced to the music electrocuting our souls.
And the love poured into our wine glasses and we tipped them without care.