sub rosa

It’s 1:00 am and my buds are at La Zona Rosa in Austin. I know because I’m being included via cell phone. I don’t know if they’re really allowed to do that, it seems that whatever happens under the rose, is supposed to stay under the rose, but I won’t tell.
A phone call, no words, just the chanting from an invisible stage, “there is no room inside a box, there is no room inside…” says, “thinking of you Rod, know where you’ve been, being there with you.”
When you’re having fun, hangin with friends, hearing great music, do you know how much a phone call means to a friend a thousand miles away unwinding at the kitchen table?
I think you do.
Gracias Amigos