My Love and Music
11.04.2022
Listening to the man-made digital ruckus
that my love calls rock n roll
my foot twitches, taking to tap
that which my mind
hasn't found a way to wrap.
I listen to the drums
from a thousand different hands
pressed together in plastic
recalled at the touch of a silicone command.
Repeat and repeat
an eerie chorus of synthetic songs.
A bell chimes.
A voice whispers.
Each clip of audio
stitched together like it belongs.
My love plays warbled jazz
twisting trumpets into tiny tones.
Bass guitars float by
on four strings
and reverberate in my bones.
Virtual bees flood into my ear
and out comes '80s synthwave
flocking to cyberspace seagulls
with pixelated wings
to a neon sunset rave.
My love taps and twists
through an infinite Rolodex of sounds
and he calls it a symphony;
a cacophony of coded rounds.
And my head bobs to his beats
as the stream of beeps and bops
marches by on electric waves -
For my love calls it music.
And I call his music my love
the music that we crave.