Bone Valley Lanes

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There is no such thing as the Bone Valley Bowling Lanes, at least as far as I know.  

This song is a still-life of an evening at a bowling alley.  Kris, Phil, and Jo get a few brush-strokes each.  I enjoy thinking about ordinary places where people pass the time.  Bowling alleys seem to be a particularly American (North American?) setting for a patch-work collection of misfits, your neighbors, and a combination of the two on any given night.  

Churches, bars, and diners are other such places where people gather, for good or for ill, to reclaim a piece of themselves that's been a bit frayed.  The Bone Valley Lanes is an unlikely temple of sorts, and to convey that I tried to infuse as much religious and biblical imagery and allusions as I could.   

As a writer, one of my hopes is to shine an inadequately small pen-light on the sacred embedded in the profane.  The Big Picture...in a very small frame.

"Bone Valley Lanes"

Phil limps to the counter and takes his shoes off

Like some Moses at a Burning Bush, but with a little smoker's cough

He's got a little smoker's cough

It's League Night every Tuesday, ordinary time

Weary souls put on two-toned shoes absolved of their grit and grime

Aerosol makes it all fine

Kris makes change behind the counter; these days she's no longer raising Cain

But the inked number on her forearm and memories of all that shame

But she's got a new start at the lanes

Kris cues up the jukebox to Poison and Motley Crue

Though every rose may have its thorn, the wax on lane 6 is brand new

A good sign for Phil and his crew

Phil buys the first round for the fellas on the team

Whether working the fork-lift or a 7-10 split, they bond over unfulfilled dreams

And they come here to know what they mean

Step inside to the Bone Valley Lanes, the Holy of Holies of Nazareth, PA

You got your gutters and strikes, a few neon lights

The big picture in 10 frames, see the big picture in a very small frame

There's a family of 5 on lane 4; lane 12's got the neighborhood kids

Next to an awkward date that's not going so great, high school romance on the skids

The real thing inexperience forbids

Jo is working the bar; her mom's with the kids back home

The tips she receives are less than she needs, while the father is off somewhere stoned

He left her all alone

Kris watches all this unfold as she resets the lane 6 pins

A landscape of heartbreak and hope, for Christ's sake

Reset those pins again, you better reset those pins again

At the end of the night, she disinfects the soles of the shoes

And empties about 12 baskets of trash and heads home with nothing to lose

Well, to a church to sleep on a pew

While the others head off to bed, she's got no place to lay her head

Phil dreams of next Tuesday, Jo dreams her kids' dreams come true

Grace glimmers and gleams in moments unseen

Kris smiles from the warmth in her pew, the church boiler is brand new

A Burning Bush without the right clues, warm enough to take off her shoes

Step inside...