Within this sacred pulse of blood and pulp
there is more to be heard than a quiet throbbing
this beat after beat of humanity
the background noise of life.
My ear is pressed against his chest
but I hear song birds calling these steady cues home
migrating to the warmest places
until next time.
Biology flushing through his arteries is just a facade
for marching bands and parades place their feet to the ground with each beat
the elephant in your mouth
attempting to follow rhythmically
tripping over its own trunk
it knows what real music is
swallowed by the barrier of a fluctuating chest or not
wholesome is a sound loud enough
to shatter water-soaked ear drums.