Arms of the Dj

flailing meticulously
left to right to left to right &
back again, with a knob in one hand
jjjjjajjjjajerking it to the side whilst the
other moves in sync with the beat,
palmed over the digital scratch record,
slicing in the opposite direction as that of the
knob twister---
with head slamming & hair flowing,
cig hanging from the side of the mouth,
the crowd hurls itself up in unison
when the tempo reaches 142 pounding fists a min. &
the dj’s movements make shadows on the screen
with the bright strobes, lasers & prismatic constellations of light 
diving & dancing down
into the depths of the human 
sea,
rippling out in front of them---
all pumping to the pounce promulgated by the pulse
all
pumping to the pounce
promulgated by the
pulse.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

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