Democracy

I say I forgot how good Daytona is. The album. I think of the book Rachel published, Bouquet. I think maybe what I love about Mariana Valencia has something to do with Pusha T. Has to do with stepping in partway through the rhythm. Then inch it, bring it back to you. My doctor dad would put on the devil’s music in the car and tell us not to listen to the lyrics. Just enjoy the beat. I would listen anyway. The words are themselves also the music. I hear it when I read. I like to arrive just on time to some frequency I’ve never heard. I like to address myself out loud and sometimes it happens in public. Some conversations have to happen between you and you and everybody. This is not only the dominion of the unmedicated. Recursive speech is democratic. And sometimes someone on the their stoop will notice, and smile at me. Beauty. I’m used to enjoying things that have almost nothing to do with me. This is the gift that the extremes of privilege can never afford. But then it takes an act of vengeance to bring it back to you. That’s what Daytona does. And dancing. “Devil on the other, what would me do?” If poetry is saying what hasn’t been said, then rap is saying what wouldn’t. If not for the. I could wince and moan at the violent sexuality and degradation but what’s new. I was born and stepped into the middle.