Music blares through amplifiers
Heavy Metal
Bass line

My age shocks some
In this

Me in the mosh


Last week I went to an underground concert to support and critique a friend whose band was performing there. Let’s just say I could have given birth to most of the other attendees with whom I was front stage and center dancing up a storm. Conversations while different bands set up, comparing the ones performing that night to other older (sometimes much older), bands is when some realized I was not even within fifteen years of their age. As faces ebbed and flowed that night, it became something of a running gag for some whippersnapper in the know to grab a newcomer and have him or her guess my age. Yes, Advil was dear my friend the next morning, but this Mama held her own proudly that night.

Because when this mama rocks, it’s not in a chair.

A conversation I had yesterday regarding my love of head banging music reminded me of last week’s concert. I decided to immortalize it by trying another Zeno poem (Ten lines with the syllable count: 8/4/2/1/4/2/1/4/2/1 and a rhyme scheme: a/b/c/d/e/f/d/g/h/d).

That it also happens to fit this weeks dVerse challenge of “keeping it small” is an added bonus. 22 words total!

dVerse ~ Pets Pub | MeetingTheBar: It’s a small, small world — so let’s LIMBO like there is no tomorrow

33 thoughts on “Moshing

    • Oh please! Calling the pseudo electric shock treatment moves involved with certain mosh pit thrashing as “dancing” would make Martha Graham and Alvin Ailey pirouette in their graves. But I still look good doing it ;).

      Thanks Charles.

  1. I’ve never been to a mosh pit. But I’m glad you’re not letting age define and determine who you are and what you do. My thing is Salsa dancing. Surprisingly, the next day, I’m fine. Let’s keep making it harder for people to get old.

    • I’ve been there too, Björn, but oh no, no, no, not anymore. I concede to now having enough vintage that I will not do the concerts in the rain, nope. Give me some cover please!

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