A Hit’a Words
upon attending recent poetry readings
Man, it’s that hit’a words you get,
like, I’m sure you’ll know what I mean,
you’re hit by somethin’ that good,
as good as it gets,
as good as it ever gets,
language is singin’ to the max,
as powerful as words soundin’ so beautiful
can be—
It’s the connect
of connection, the bright flashin’ of spoken electricity,
the conjunct of conjunction fusing extreme-ended
poles of polarity,
it’s the contracted contraction
of comin’ together unbridled, leapin’ all over of energy,
the concise & super-excellent pop of syllable sound,
the unmistakable spirit quintessence that drugs
don’t got that power,
not that blast of O for the soul—
Only the poet’s voice got that power,
that sudden sweeping over you realization
that this is, like, the real kick’a juice,
‘cause you know what it’s got,
the lightning bolt inside it,
gonna make you zigzag ‘cross the sky,
spaces & places you see open between the words,
between the sentences,
such universes
of meaning.
Oh, man, are you lit up with words,
your bein’ is BEIN’ this HERE & NOW—
I can see your eyes, man, you got hit
by somethin’ that good.