Down Deep
© 2011 Rob Krabbe, NoonAtNight Publications
Some days.I go down deep.
Before the lights come up on the stage.
Deep.
Into a different Place.
Where I can't hear anything but feel the
music.
All I can see are
the shadows in
the darkness
of my universe.
The beat, the
groove. I love
Latin jazz or
deep pocket
rock and roll.
I live within
the steamy salsa
drums, pouring
over me.
Saturate me.
Hide and seek.
Rhythm.
Like the stacking
of clean dishes
in the kitchen.
The pain that seeks me can't find me here.
You . . . death
you want me?Paying attention?You tracking?
You will have
to wait until
tomorrow.
Some days.I go down deep.
Before the lights come up on the stage.
Deep.
Into a different Place.
Where I can't hear anything but feel the
music.
All I can see are
the shadows in
the darkness
of my universe.
The beat, the
groove. I love
Latin jazz or
deep pocket
rock and roll.
I live within
the steamy salsa
drums, pouring
over me.
Saturate me.
Hide and seek.
Rhythm.
Like the stacking
of clean dishes
in the kitchen.
The pain that seeks me can't find me here.
You . . . death
you want me?Paying attention?You tracking?
You will have
to wait until
tomorrow.
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