seaweed wraps around my legs, and pulls towards the ocean floor hands reaching upwards to the blue
flashing blind: and when the band stopped playing dixie-land blues, a bebop
a god appeared and led on column-like armies towards the infatuate place, clunky chords resonating thru dazed landscapes
pausing a moment, to let the trumpet take the floor, blaring the glories of god before marching through the temple door
muted let me ‘begin again’ sing the swinging glories of a god
that pulled unwilling bodies through heat, hurt and heaviness
across Peor, far miles & far out across dessert heat to burn a peoples without shame, militant but, with rhythm.
god, that bug bit hard: whole world itching letting those drums go, with a smile: laugh and let it go