#6 - Phish, December 1997

Big wah-pedal
trampoline boogie.
The cow funk
that just doesn’t
scrape off
the moonboots
(these are moon-cows
of course).
The hop-finger
clavinet rag and
the thunder-thigh
bass bomb
pornofunk flyovers.

Sometimes I
think I pinch
a nerve listening
to the whip-crack
segues. Sometimes
I taste the filth,
split open on
the snare drum,
sharp and
unapologetic.
Sometimes I
forget about the
ghost in the machine.