Soft Play is anything but soft – it’s hard
as rock. Bodies as instruments
and tattoos as skinwear, Isaac and Laurie
burst into fireworks of their lives.
On the floor, an ocean of fans. Suddenly,
a stir. A young lad, topless, face
up and legs apart, emerges on the horizon,
moving swiftly like a sea lion.
Another, a third, then a young lass. A pride
of marine creatures. One by one,
lifted by raised arms and carried seam-
lessly to the front. Three beefy
security guys pull them out and help
to their feet. Brief exchange of smiles.
As the drums the guitar and the vocals
dent the roof, dazzlingly white
waves. The surfers are living the moment
with their naked existence where words
fail. Initially strangers to one another,
the crowds bind like water molecules,
lend their arms to bear the weight and dreams
of the young surfers, to perform
the ritual of communion. What a night
to remember: at Rock City, tides
of people put their bodies out for rock.