​I like to listen
to the music
turned up too high
to the south side
of a headache
to a threshold
that almost makes
me cry.
I like to hear it
so loud I can
almost see
the singer”s tonsils,
see their uvula
moving like a
boxer’s speed bag
I like it so loud
that in that
first intake of
the singer
breathes me in
and in their first
music and I
are one again.
So, I don’t so much
listen to music
but feel it
and it feels me.
And I get lost
in the beat,
and found
in the rhythm.
Isn’t that the way
Music is supposed
to be?

M. Zane McClellan

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