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Author Topic: A poem for AFP about her show at Lincoln Center this FRIDAY!  (Read 1495 times)

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A poem for AFP about her show at Lincoln Center this FRIDAY!
« on: August 05, 2013, 06:05:33 PM »

Okay, so I'm more than a little excited about the AFP and GTO show at Lincoln Center this Friday. Ever since I yelled out "YEAH!" far too loudly when Amanda launched into "The Killing Type" on piano at one of her and Neil's evenings some months ago (drawing the stares of EVERYONE in my section, this was at a very fancy concert hall at Bard College) I realized two things: 1) It's important to remember where you are, no matter how badass the performer is that you're watching. Oops! 2) I REALLY need to see this album LIVE.

So I'm super excited to take the whole live, jumpy, singalongy, shouty spectacle. I am also super excited that she's playing in a small park in Lincoln Center that I used to hang out in through much of High School as my school is one block away from it. So much so that I was inspired to write Amanda a poem about it.

Presented for approval/disapproval/apathy:

Dear Amanda,
On Friday you will be
In Damrosch park just rockin’ out,
For all new york to see-
at least the part that is to be,
G and S’s decade-versary

I will be there-
With my manic smile so wide
And bright–red flame attracting hair-
So proud to have help funded
G&S’s kickin’ lair!

I’ve seen,
you sing with Neil,
A pairing that’s so fabulous
I sometimes doubt it’s real
But Amanda,
Here’s the thing-
I think before you go there
And before you start to sing-
(It’s kinda just too perfect
That you’ll do so in the ring
Where the Big ‘ol apple circus
Used to have their yearly thing…)

Oh, I-
got off the point,
I find I often do that,
Hope your nose ‘aint out of joint.
I think you rule-
So perfect to perform at
my old hang out from high school.

Just down the block, around the bend was where I spent my years
Trying to define myself and rid my head of fears,
Am I too tall/too fat/too loud-
Or am I just too small?
Of mind, of class, accomplishments?
I wished I knew it all-
The way you do when you’re 16
and find you have the gall-
To self-indulge self-praising
And the constant navel-gazing,
And your body shape is phasing
From eyes that won’t cease grazing

Dearest Amanda-
your band will sing-
Underneath a great old band shell
Trees like fairies in a ring.
Not 50 feet from which,
I remember how I cried
My boyfriend had betrayed me-
he had fondled and he’d lied
And I swore by all the gods below my heart had up and died…

And now, I think it’s swell,
That you who I so idolize
(those lips those hips those bedroom eyes)
Shall bookend past uncertainties
With flirting tongue and lips that tease
While screaming in your microphone
And strutting ‘cross the stage you own

So A-
if you’ll allow-
(I’ve kind bared my soul here, so
I think we’re kind of friendly now)
I thought I had to let you know
By such toys as my mind does show
(and since I like to write in rhyme)
(and sing it to my head in time)

I’m very grateful for your song,
For whom you have been all along,
For your fearless, ceaseless grace,
So please come rock it at this place-
This park that’s damned right in its name
Where teenage angst damned me the same
And right past wrongs with subtle skill,
I’ll cheer you loud for good or ill!
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