The steady, steady, steady, steady beat
is interrupted by a different beat,
a looser rhapsody whose rhythmic beat
is filled with interruptions, extra beats
and silences, a wild abandonment
of order, structure, pace. Cacophony
is what I hear. A jumbled, restless beat
that can’t be right. That needs to go away.
I want the beat to steady. It should be
predictable: ta dum, ta bum, ta dum;
a boring beat to fit a boring man.
This wild exuberance is not for me.
Dum . . . Dum . . . Dum . . . Stability
is what is wanted, needed. Dum. Dum. Dum.
I can’t predict the wild, orgiastic excesses
I feel. I need the metronome I’m used to.
Extra beats are fine for someone else.
I’m bothered when expected beats are missed
and wait impatiently for their return.
It isn’t right. It isn’t right. But still
I hope the beat, the music never stops.