somewhere is the one that never will burn out

Dear Punks Who Didn't Write to Me to Try and Buy My Dears Tickets,

Your loss! The show was fantastic. PS Thanks!

***

Dear Drunk Girls Who Pushed to the Front and Then Talked Through The Show,

Fuck you. PS The bass player probably wasn't looking at your friend longingly. You were too dizzy to see what he was looking at, and anyway, he was rocking. I've seen the band 12 times. I know these things.

***

Dear Oscar,

Thanks for getting us there and home in one piece. That "stalling on Delancey St." practical joke wasn't my kind of humor, really, but still, thanks.

***

Dear Good God And The Heavens Above,

Thank you for all the good times and goodness always. No, really.

love*jane