the beat taught you everything

bringing focus to your third eye

through the oceanic to-and-fro of hips

and the incessant head-nodding;

some kinda neverending acknowledgement

of what is right, funky

the righteousness of how it rendered

smiles from mean mugs and ice grills

you’d never feel dirty

in it’s sweat: drenching, dripping, spraying

as a many becomes a one through movement

it’s thrusting, fucking 4/4 sexuality

expanding a common libido like a

burgeoning galaxy

if only you could run


or tomohawk through hearts and souls

with the call and response

ba-dumt-dumt-bap! ba-dumt-dumt-bap!

of kick and snare drums


an infinite loop funk soundtrack for life:

the neverending get-down-to-get-up

when, someday, I need a heart transplant

I hope the technology exists

to use a HipHop beat to power my bloodstream


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