Nagging Icky Thump

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Playing with
Jack White and my organs
Creating a smooth groove

I felt it once before,
Harmony,
Until it was ruined by one.

My appendix,
Infected with bad beats
And rhyme.

My appendix
Creating the icky thump.

My appendix,
Like the unneeded band member.
Just like the tambourine player
Who ruins the group.
You need to be fixed.

You are gone.
Removed with an appendectomy.
You are no longer the one,
And only infamy.

You are just
Dead leaves on the cold, dirty ground
To me now.
All fallen in the past.

Now I can hear it.
Harmony,
My body playing the bass
Feeling it pulse through me,
Expressions shown on my face.





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