In 1991 I had been divorced for eight years and was living in New York City, working downtown as a programmer/analyst for the state insurance department and playing nights in a great band about to break out. My two sons were in Albany with their mother for the holidays, and I took a bus upstate to be with them. Albany, the city of my birth through young adulthood, had otherwise become a haunted place to me, loaded with unhelpful memories. I wrote this at work the following week. The Christmas season continues to engender in me a lingering feeling of PTSD, as do infrequent trips back to Albany.
As a bonus, here’s an instrumental holiday classic I wrote and recorded to engender the same sort of anomie in others. Drowning in reverb. Enjoy!
https://on.soundcloud.com/RnXre9sOGzvRJ1Ue2x
I like your poetry, brother man.
And I've been to see that dinosaur, I'm trying to remember where it is... ?? NE somewhere or other?
I was a little kid, I remember that much. Wisconsin? I dunno. But the look on your face is great.