Posters are pressed from two 11 x 17" linoleum blocks carved by the band's artist-in-residence, Mike Giuliana
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I saw her on the step, leaning forward, the expectation in her eye for what I would say. We had talked on and on, it’d grown late. My tongue froze in place. She asked—did I want this? I saw her on the step, but what was she asking? Was it what I was hoping and feared for so long? It shone in my eyes that day, was written all over my face—did I want this? First would go our friends, and then our closer friends. No, we made our list of demands ahead of time. But alone, and in the heat of the day, all that came then flew away—we wanted this. And if I loved her, would she stay? Was it worth all that heartache? Would it end the sleepless nights, would it calm the crazed and jealous fights? Your brother calls me friend, your sister throws her hands around my neck. And your mother calls me to the table. She gives us her blessing.