where genres meet in a dim afterhours bar somewhere beyond time jazz was already there laughing softly into a glass full of midnight blues sat in the corner wearing heartbreak like an old coat classical kept staring out the window thinking about eternity again punk kicked the door open screaming THIS WHOLE WORLD IS A SCAM country talked about mothers factory jobs n highways that never loved anybody back hip hop arrived rough as city street drum beats Harlem size history electronic music flickered in n out like a machine learning how to sing folk carried stories in tired hands metal sounded angry but secretly just wanted the world to feel honest again then drill walked in a hoodie face hidden behind a shiesty with enough enough consequences poured up in a styrofoam cup to get a life sentence the whole room shifted to stopped to listen something sounded familiar but different young n exhausted like sirens outside project windows like candles on street corners like surviving too fast for childhood to finish school then blues looked up slowly n said i know that pain after that the room went silent for a moment even the jukebox sounded nervous then poetry stepped in and changed the mood every genre stopped to listen for a second cause somehow poetry sounded like every one of 'em

