Rhythm is a molasses mixture 

That bakes at a preheat;

Gliding smoothly off the fork prongs.

Steady like the stone walls

The soul beats against,

Yet I swam in molasses and let the sugar

Sleep on my tongue.

Rhythm is walking over sidewalk

Brushing your fingers on the middle school roof

Wondering when it will topple.

I’ve been buying rhythm with all the

Monopoly money stuffed down my shoes;

I’ve been inviting rhythm to tie

Up my hair and brush my teeth

Cause it gets harder when I 

Have to do it myself.

Rhythm, cause all the music I hear

Has a background beat that I 

Have to keep playing, until

I’m just a point on the continuum.

And every time I walk past

the detour,

I’m a shortcut away from

Where they tell me I should go.