you aren't what you love

assuming it's true that
"you are what you love,
and not what loves you back ..."
like jenny lewis croons

then,
i'm the band i saw in richmond
as i huddled in a doorway

i'm the handful of the faithful
who sought them out in the rain

i am the monument we made there
when the venue caved

on a sidewalk in the dark,
i am america and rock'n'roll

i am the tiny bass amp
cranked as high as it could go

i am a pair of tom-toms
where a drum kit wouldn't do

i am the absence
of an electric guitar solo

                                       to its crescendo
             the song climbs  -a-long explosion
and as        before a sing
shuddering

The Voice didn't throw His head back
didn't cry out to the skies or city streets:

                  BBUUUURRRNn

The Shoulders simply shrugged: burn...
and the humble celebration carried on