The World was moving and she was right there with it and she was—

here in Bridgeport at the Hartford Healthcare Amphitheater
right behind the 7 ft man at the David Byrne concert
& he was the only one standing in Section 202
& he was raising his hands high in the air,
Drifting this way and that & he reminded her
of that waving inflatable tube creature in front of
used car dealerships & his shirt had ill-drawn clouds with an orange sky
& she was starting to rise but didn’t want to disrupt
the rows behind her & she was wanting to say her piece,
but he had all the rights,
& he was part of every one of her videos
so she stopped recording, wished she had a pleasant elevation
& she was outside & she couldn’t believe it was already May
& she could only see his sunset
& she could almost hear the highway breathing
beyond the Metro North train that she was
watching go by & she almost talked herself into giving up
her tickets for tonight because she heard
it was going to rain & it was a long drive up I95 & the Hantavirus had become a thing
& she was comfortable making excuses & letting her days go by
& she was trying to float now above the anger she felt for this fool
because she heard David Byrne say love & kindness
are the most profoundly punk things we can do
& she was like damn the world sucks so bad right now
& he was turning around & around & shouting the wrong lyrics
& when he sat down between song 11 and 12
& everyone beside her & behind her cheered,
& she realized she hadn’t laughed like this in a long time
& she began moving into the universe of the stage that she could finally see,
started to forget his head was ever in the way,
& when he bolted back up a few songs later,
the same as it ever was,
she knew he heard Section 202’s collective groan
& she was confident he didn’t care.
She decided this was Life During Wartime,
& she was singing along to every verse,
Hey Hey Hey— & she was
recognizing this was once in a lifetime, & she was
missing enough to feel alright—

*

Victoria Nordlund’s poetry collections Wine-Dark Sea and Binge Watching Winter on Mute are published by Main Street Rag. She is a Best of the Net and Pushcart Prize Nominee, whose work has appeared in Rust+Moth, Chestnut Review, trampset, Maudlin House, and elsewhere. Visit her at VictoriaNordlund.com