[This was originally published in F.U.C.K. poetry Issue #40. The publish date is approximate.]
Sometimes i hear the music rhythm and movement Other times I feel the music coursing through me Breaking me down, a weapon from up high Usually I listen with baseline intensity and thought infrequently it throws me against a wall it has its way with me as i close my eyes as if in pain, and let it work the magic magic i have come to love, know, understand and want without it, a void ensues and i am lost, looking up, begging