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.