Stayin’ Alive

It was peculiar; that pouncing beat that pounds

the head against the drying pillars, all reflections

were the mismatched pills taken quietly whenever

the DJ pauses — music, magic, and ecstacy living

amidst the laser pointed lights and within still:

the broken, the lonely, and the unpronounceable

that pass through the curtained doorframe in order

to sweat against the grinding of  the unapologetic:

singularly hordes, in plurality one, in blue and

magenta hair, rubbing hands against scalp just

because and being mad against anything capitalist:

that polar-arching symbol of equity that loses

the symbolic hatred, right now dead, reresurrected

zombies, fueled by the passion-induced fervors

of the night


This is the 100 Songs Project, a 100-day writing challenge based on AFI’s 100 Years…100 Songs. Every day, I write a short poem, prose piece, or play based on, reacting to, rejecting, accepting, or doing something related to one of the songs in the top 100 list.

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