Reggae: thin and spare
up top but sinewy and
benefitting from thick,
supple bass down below.

Heavy metal: dense, frantic
as a power tool run amok
on a plywood surface with
bumps and bruises interrupting.

Country comes clinging
to a root it claims; it fastens
hold, yet has no visible chain
to the same.

And rock, rock and roll?
Riff after cliched riff with a shout
to whatever gods it last saw;
welcome to new gods when they’re gone.

There is folk, and jazz, even
a bit of classical; blues after sunrise;
Dixieland to ease the night on through.
Turn on the radio, spin the dial;

refuse silence in favor of a noise
no one really loves but Lord,
they say they do. You ought to know
by now — it doesn’t matter, really,

which poison you take, which manna
you eat, what meal comes your way.
You eat what you’re given, listen to all.
You’re lost. You know that. You close your eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
onward,
T