A peculiar home of steady bass and lazy melody

lulls me to order

sings me grounded through altitude change

when my mind can’t see nary a footpath.

Walking through and past

in and out 

of my collection of strange thoughts

seems bearable with a beat.

The beats march me through borders and barriers

dance me through road blocks and security lines.

Empty minded ambles, endless stints of intellectual exhaustion

Confusion, boredom, nostalgia, heartbreak, euphoria 

STOP. There’s nothing you can do or say. 

Life packed up and put in a suitcase

in the air between identities?

Headphones go in and suddenly

the music is the ironic eye in Hurricane Transition

The hums and syncopation 

seem quite a peculiar home

but the only one that unifies

the only one that reconciles

all of me. 


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