My brain pummels me to sleep
and drills me awake with
“Rocky Top” playing on loop
Reminds me
of a band (what the hell
was their name?)
that used to play at
the Depot Lounge
on Tuesday nights
over forty years ago
and once again it’s
time for that virus of
damnable nostalgia
that ties a regret stone
to each ankle — stones
torn no doubt
from the summit
of Rocky Top
I shall drown soon enough
in past happenings
(what in hell were the names
of all the hellions
from back then?
Not even sure of my own)
The Depot Lounge
was where I learned
the extent of my drowning skills
No amount of Rocky Top
could keep me afloat back then
and it’s not helping now
I’m sinking fast listening to
a song of Tennessee
in Massachusetts
(as is the whole country
as is the whole world
but I digress –)
What in hell was the name
of the band that would set up
in the front by the bar
on Tuesday nights
under the projection screen
(was it even the Depot Lounge
or a different local bar?
There were so many
I have lost the names for them all)
They’d play Rocky Top
Home sweet home to me
and all us Yankees would sing along
In a downward spiral
I sing Rocky Top
Good Old Rocky Top
Had me a girl once
Half Bear, other half Cat
What was the name of that band
and the name of that girl
or any other from then
or anyone from then
Who was I back then
but another drunk
circling the drain
I wish I was in Rocky Top
Rocky Top home to me
but it wasn’t and in my head
there is no place like home
and horror and all the music
of the past can’t hold me up
I should put a hole in my head
and let this out
What was the name
of that band
I don’t blame them
for being forgotten
I wish I was in Rocky Top
I could hold on to the edge of this pit
while singing dumbly along
until I could stand no more
let go and swirl away
Vanish like that band has done
once the song was done
Dark Matter 