I wanna write a poem
about the gum, drum, bubbleguppy
beat drop,
feel the bass hit my face
raise my waist to the grace
at the table say a prayer
to the grave
or the stable
(are you real are you real?)
nothing answers,
nothing matters,
chase the bass drop
fallin’ face flop
hit the floor
swooning core
underwater
there’s no god
but silence
take Poseidon
passive pressure pansy pose
like an idol
to believe in
hide your sins in,
disown discomfort
‘til your numb and righteous,
siren pious,
take me to the sea
you sailor drunk on longing,
take me to the sea
frothing feed anxiety,
just another ‘bsessive pressured prose at prayer
compel him
compel him
compel this christ in scripture
to love us enough to save us
(are you there, are you there,
are you real, are you real)
nothing answers
does it matter
heart rate faster
no one’s come to save you
monsters come to scathe you
run,
run,
we might all be running
on fumes until we die–
don’t think about that end
yet,
nope right out
into the music,
fuse this rhythm
to my hungry heart,
Imma live forever
in the remix
cuz I have to
(nothing answers)
leak into the alley
of the great grand empty city
and there you think to ask,
is this the freedom?
The ever present constant
to the absence of existence?
And in it
are you drowning
in the longing
with the songing;
after death tide takes us
do we still speak in silence?
***
find my published books at this link
Jordyn Saelor 