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The Journal of Philip F De Pinto I Drove The Small Herd Of Our Camaraderie
10/27/2014 08:02 p.m.
Meaning to travel equidistant from our blight
I given license drove the small herd of our camaraderie ( Joe's and mine )
Up to Yasgur's farm to graze upon posterity
In the wake of our missing the initial roundup
Forty odd and hefty years post the act
The fact of our being persona non gratified
From its collective - that killer kilowatt day
Would illumine a good portion of the dusk festering upon a generation
And where are the instruments to steadying a path taken on a rudderless appearance?
Our neo Virgilian guide to our Valhalla vanquished to insignificance
To render us linearly sublime and above the fray in light of a quickening dusk
I must admit our memory did not serve us quite correctly
As to its exact longitude latitude attitude
And were not so fortunate to be guided by a star
But some modernist and less sexy version
A flat as pancake GPS whose vocal apparatus was intermittently female
And so arrived postfacto upon the scene
What is to correct our inaliable course and to loosen discourse
But to stumble upon some dislocated bar in the far horizon
And imbibe and imbibe and from time to time raise flasks to all which eludes us now to think
To reminisce to reconstitution
I am currently Bemused
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