I am offended
because my body is
a bit of a moron,
swaying to songs
whose beats, bass lines,
and rhythms,
are calculated to please
in order to sell.

It has become
a traitor,  falling for
half-hearted singsong,
disloyal to
my mind’s ache for
the unusual, the extraordinary,
a melody that will resound
through the ages.

Faced with
shallowness, I long for
sounds that challenge me,
music with an
edge, or a trait
that connects with
the root of my being.


© november child
photo credit: freesound.org
in response to The Sunday Whirl Wordle 286