De Luca and the Boys
Erica smiles as the band plays on. She’s through
Seeking fulfillment in boys, even dynamite boys.
And I’m through trying to make it as a rock star.
“Rock stars don’t wear t-shirts from their own
Band,” the Gossip singer says to me, frowning.
Back when brother Tad was alive I knew what
To do. Everything had meaning: speeding to
Costello concerts, chipping in for birdie on 18,
Making hundreds of tapes to listen to on road
Trips, pre-CD, and looking on in amazement.
Erica, like so many, was for me, and still can be,
A vital replacement for a missing Tad. A music
Lover, lively, making meaning out of simplicity.
She keeps turning up, instant messaging and
Weighing in on topics, although we only met
Three times: once at the Cradle, once at her job,
And once almost stealing away from East Chapel
Hill High School for a smoke. I yanked Tad out
Of an afternoon of school to get the first view of
Saturday Night Fever. We laughed at Travolta.
Erica is making me a tape now, this one’s a new-
Fangled burned CD. For this, all she gets is a
Poem and Alanis Morrisette. Erica doesn’t know
How pretty she is. I never realized how much
These newfound friends meant until they quickly
Sifted through one day and out into the Canadian
Night, or the hidden expanses of life on the road.
We all run back to see old friends. We all lose
Friends as life goes on, or lose ourselves. Erica
Do you know how much those moments meant?
Copyright, Doug Stuber, 2002. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.