Black Friday Poem by J.M Berger

I’ve been having these weird dreams. Nightmares. Where the three of you practice is a hole in the ground in the middle of a desert. And you wrote a song called ‘Memories’ where that was the first line: ‘I live in a hole in the middle of the ground.’ And the bass line reminded me of ‘Mr. Shlappy’ and the guitar part was System of a Down-esque. And I heard you guys play ‘Dylos’ with a slightly different bass part. And for some reason in the dreams being in your presence was more than I could take. I had a first dream where I called Dan and I broke down saying I felt hated. And this second dream with you in the desert… you didn’t want to be mean to me and Pat seemed like a monster. And I screamed a prayer at the burning sun: ‘Someday when your children have grown to be great and beautiful, things will be better’. And the thing is I don’t hate you, I don’t feel these things. And I don’t think you do either. But they were painful dreams. Just nightmares.