Missing Her at a Concert, In a Storm
I am here sensing
Pretending to reach for a rain
That shatters before it hits us
Pretending to reach for a rain
That shatters before it hits us
This animated heart
Of the drummer makes mist
Before rescinding, filling
My dance steps like graves
Drawing long breaths
Of the drummer makes mist
Before rescinding, filling
My dance steps like graves
Drawing long breaths
Inside me
There are rattled fingers
Gripping the keepsake
You once slid into my coffin
A compass to act as
The corner of my eye, as
The corner of a circle
I will find if it kills me
There are rattled fingers
Gripping the keepsake
You once slid into my coffin
A compass to act as
The corner of my eye, as
The corner of a circle
I will find if it kills me
unedit 
I love these lines: “pretending to reach for a rain that shatters before it hits us”.
Thank you much, Noah. Writing in the rain is hard.
This is filled with arresting images. You have filled this with stunning imagery and it all works; everything fits together and folds into each other. I really like this piece a lot. “This animated heart of the drummer makes mist before rescinding” is the most interesting and effective description of drumming I’ve heard. Honestly.
Of the things I’ve done for a long time, listening to drums is way up there. And poetry. Glad I could pair my favorites.
Jotted this down at The Roots when they came to play my city. Questlove can drum good lines out of anybody, me thinks.