An untitled poem:

It was my first time and I was nervous like shit
How will I enter, what should I say?
Have I the stamina, how long can I stay?
If I get lost, will I find my way?
I know I will like this, so fuck, just do it

A festival centered on my favorite man
In a place called Bad Doberan
I've wanted to go there
But now that I am here
I wonder if I am prepared and will find
The things I have pictured in my mind

I study the map by the gate and see
The venues that beckons to me
The Rennbahn is built for horse races
But now there will be no long faces
Just thousands of creeps chilling in the park
And the Mystery Stage will glow in the dark

I locate the Main Stage, where on Friday
The Zappa Band is purported to play
Which for me, I think, is the highlight
Their versions are just so right
With Mike's geniality
And Scott's base profanity
Pun intended
He can bend it

Which will be the warm up bands?
Who will own the Molli?
Where to get the contrabands?
In a special doily?

You're probably wondering why I'm here
I'm old, unassuming and from nowhere
If I bumped into one of the guys
Who may have played on Dupree's Paradise
I'll stand like a statue and stammer "Hello"
And not get more words out before they will go

I guess I will look for a blessed relief
To block out my worries and troublesome grief
Perhaps in the exhibition locale
I'll find something that will lift my morale
Perhaps on a sofa I can loudly exclaim
"Ich bin marooned!"
in shame