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May 2007 Jamming is awesome. There was a period of time last year when my "German sister" Ira was living with us, and Scott and Nate would come over pretty often and we'd play music - the boys on guitars, Ira on sax, and me on drums. I miss it, but I think this poem captures the feeling well enough. |
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We are the brightest eyes – you have the brightest eyes – burning vivid holes through the curtains of your hair. You have the brightest eyes – look into his brightest eyes – shining back at you across a million miles of music. Look into his brightest eyes – we have the brightest eyes – light glaring off the cymbals and the strings of his guitar. We have the brightest eyes – we meet the brightest eyes – and grin fiercely when the notes climb insistently through the ceiling. We meet the brightest eyes – we are the brightest eyes – and we are fed by our own music in the basement: brightest eyes. |