They talked in sounds-
their words beat
into each others ears.
I can pick out their lyrics
Yet have no ear to hear the lyre.
-their brains, little turtle
shells with strings.
High pitches of excitements
and bass meant for basements.
“Have you heard this?”
“Have you heard that?”
Zen of screaming,
lower case, hammer claw,
mariachi, bachata, schranz
I watched their tongues dance-
on and on into the night,
listening in awe.
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