well beck's a hot kisser and the elvin metal we played on the way up was pretty amusing. so overall the trip was good. we sat in chairs as beck sat under red and blue light wearing red pants, red shoes and a magenta shirt. acoustic guitar and beautiful voice filling the room. harmonica blues cover of hank williams, a little bit of outkeast thrown in with lulling lyrics of it's all in your mind and jackass. ben and i kept leaning over to each other to sigh over his voice. and stank and i held hands and wept into handkerchiefs. he's got a tiny body. the only white boy that can dance. he teased us with robot moves. pretty face with rosy cheeks. and there were nitemare hippie girls dancing up front. three encores and the golden age. plastic child's guitar and latin beat that sped up suddenly. where tourist lie and decay. like our hotel in snob central. two meals at central market. the room is muggy but we're smiling, lost in song. almost like lazy flies hovering above. yee haws from me and oh yeahs from beck, thick and deep. he felt like liquid sunset. and he's my radical rockstar boyfriend. mmm.
reaccurring images of bruce.