syncopated rhythms dart off the stage
smoke lingers in the air
cool gyrations run through the crowd
be-bop gives birth
to a new kind of soul
a sense of individuality
freedom of the mind
i stand, moving to the beat
finishing my beer, walking away
fusing the rhythm with my feet
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
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1 comment:
that's a pretty sweet poem and a pretty sweet subtitle. keep up the good work.
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