A cappella

We laid there with a sense of bewilderment and enchantment.  Two immobile quads mushed together, forming lethargic shapes from an underneath point of view.  Time was an unknown fact, entry bracelets replaced watches and phones and burning neon.  The essential numbers - like a mother, father and brother - were silenced by the beauty between the trees.  Backs rested and massaged, we walked without purpose in a seemingly OK manor.  Front of calves were burnt, back of calves were cold.  Two-faced.  Pretty lights engulfed our heads and laughter spoke languages we couldn't remember.  Fireworks debated points of homeostasis and levels of crazy.  Two was easier than one, yeah way!  Spitting in straws.  Splitting.  Paper plates ignited with fury, the sparks caught our laughter and burned in the sounds of madness, happiness, lochness, and animated voice.  His ingeniously loud vibrato lured nomads out from behind shadows, looking to play, looking to wonder.  The wicked witch melted twelve times.  The green became even greener as technology played with fun.  We stared.  I stared for a while - maybe days - and it felt like Christmas.  Four o'clock chocolate donuts, gonuts.  Wayne O. got arrested and no one knew what to do with his sneakers or 10,000 claims.  His absence was filled with Savannah nights and her teddy bear husband.  All the ducks swam in the water, and woke up old legends from sleeping bags of warmth.  LCD Soundsystem started the last day with Bob and the mess felt normal, just as my dirty hands felt clean. 

It's like this: pretend you're a Google satellite.  Zoom in past the oceans, past the metropolis', past the highways, houses, pools, convention centers, past the trees, and focus on the little flicker of light.  That is a world, right around a campfire.  Soaking, brewing, heating - a full circle of bending minds and crooked smiles.  People are living within the tiniest dot on the biggest scale.  They decorate their dot with pink and green glow sticks, and maybe some empty cans.  Surrounded by thousands, do they ever look around?  Me?  I didn't find the need to, as our neighbors were mirror images.  Through the looking glass, we all screamed at peaks.  

See you next year Stickman.