the things i remember 
are not the ones you would think
the dark purple glow of the stairs 
leading to an underground comedy club 
low lighting and fallen ceiling in a crowded room 
chairs and tables that hadn’t been changed since the 80s
crowding around a tiny cafe table with you, our friend and his flavor of the month 
i don’t remember the act
you tell me it was bill burr 
i don’t even remember the jokes
but I remember feeling joy 
absolute joy
and laughter 
i remember walking to the metro 
being stopped buy a movie set 
60s era cars racing through our eye line 
like we’d traveled through time 
i remember walking through the streets of D.C 
lit up by democracy and capitalism but mostly i remember 
taking your hand 
and living for the moment