No blessing brighter than
how sterling the crash
of music writ loud on the ear
can become, silver slivers ringing
afterward, sheer cliff of sound pressure
pushing you back from the stage,
the subsequent vaccuum
you rush to fill leaning forward,
the fascination with its circuitous path
from first note to last,
the ultimately unrejectable nature
of compulsion to ROCK, the lyric
a second thought, the lyric’s sudden turn
into the only important thing, the beat
of wild drum as the only remaining thing
to connect us back to the start
of the evolutionary chain, to us as we were,
to the Basic, the Clean, the
thankfully Sacred UnCivilization
inherent in loosing the body
into thrumming communion
with the rest of the known
and unknown world.