A new-ish poem
Here it is. I’ve decided less is more. It is called Grind.
Harsh beats pulse
I ingest
I twitch
Involuntarily start to move
Hard bass shaking the air
Stale sweat lingers
Teeth start to grind
I raise my arms
And flow
Make wild shapes
Eyes tightly closed
Bright light scatter on my face
With a noise like thunder
Unified
We roar
And in my small space
Encapsulated by my ferocious attitude
I rule.