The Rock Boys

We speak in one voice, and that voice knows how to thrash.

 

It ain’t just the music,
cuz there’s more than guitars
that swims through our heads
when primal meets the poet,
when everything is connected
by a single gene that responds
only to that which beats or bangs.
We know that a song is but many
sounds woven onto a delicate scale,
ideally in a congruent manner,
often with an empathetic

heart,

but sometimes the vulgar rhythms
work too, because we don’t hear them
strictly with our oh-so-addled ears.
We perceive them with our six year-
old senses, the eyes that learned
about the colors on the spinning wheel,
the tongue that tasted blood after falls,
and yes, the head that heard endless
streams of curses in the talk of the day.
We are an amalgamation of mindsets,
of that boy/man who scrutinizes no

beat

because all of it is an orchestral score,
even if it screams and thrashes and
sounds too much like a death knell.
We are of many shapes and sizes.
One fights oppression in all its forms.
Another talks during the movie with glee.
Some even dance in no less than a massive
electrical spasm, spine to percussion.
But we are all attuned to the natural
order of all things living, each of us
a jagged edge on a great stone spear.