Dissidence

The harmonics of amassed dissidence thrum, caught on the lips of a pragmatic dreamer. 

It is enough to shatter the moon. 

Little trembling stories, little songs, little streams, little seas, I hold them in my throat. 

And I waver,
pierced by monotone pleasure: 
pitched starlight and cricket song.
I surrender my asymmetric shoes to the music, 
pendulum motion grinding me down to my underwear.

a pushing, a pounding, a pulling,
a pushing, a pounding, a pulling,
a pushing, a pounding  a pulling, 

a bum on cold cement moment of revelation.