Poetry Thursday- August 3rd

This week’s Poetry Thursday was to find inspiration in a song. There were so many songs I wanted to do, so I just sat down and this is what came out. I don’t particularly like this song anymore, but the moment was there for the writing so I did.

In 1994, I was twenty years old; I had orange hair, a nipple ring, and a chip on my shoulder. The following poem is about the Rollins Band set at Woodstock 1994.


1000 hands

you are small
smaller than the rest

rage crammed
between only skin and bones
percolates more intensely

you have lost your shirt
hours ago
only now you realize
you are barefoot

the mob opens into a ring
the big one
covered in mud
and ink
steps on your foot
as he assumes his position
in the middle
the rain making the ground
gratuitous

electricity
saturates the air
a storm has settled
the opening riff,
thunder,
a voice is singing:

don't like to think too much, it makes me think too much,
it keeps my mind on my mind
don't wanna see too much, it makes me see to much
sometimes I'd rather be blind

you enter the ring
make eye contact
shake out the nerves

all the things that they're saying & doing
when they pass me by just fills me up with noise

here,
now,
flesh determines nothing

a slow bassline
the ring shifts
and moves

it overloads me

you bump chests
his breath stale
eyes closed

the ring moves faster
caught in the whirlpool
the chorus hits:

yeah, I want to pull it out, yeah
i wanna break it all down, hey, I wanna pull it out
yeah, yeah, disconnect myself, disconnect myself
i wanna see it go down, yeah, disconnect myself

you charge
he falls
as the ring closes
a thousand hands carry you away
as the earth explodes.