Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

i hear tibet is lovely this time of year

my lips broaden into a smile
when experiencing the impact

a ballet of collisions

what a drummer
must do with his body
in the act of making music
while fighting shiva’s war

slamming membranes into life

striking sand atop cymbals into glass

grand ganesha
one day
i shall be a content mouse
living beneath
your shattering altar

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