Music As Virus

As I walk on the street,
I can feel it coming:
That novel beat
With perfect strumming.

Before the notes latch on to my ears,
I steel myself for the inevitability.
My body is about to be infected,
The louder I can hear it, the more the certainty.

And then the disease washes over me,
The moment seems to have passed.
I’ve passed away unscathed
I hope this immunity lasts.

I spoke too soon! I can feel it rushing to my brain,
Taking over my nerves along the way,
For my head starts bobbin’,
My shoulders start shruggin’,
My arms start swayin’,
My feet start tappin’,
My fingers start snappin’,
My toes start wigglin’,
And my teeth start chewin’,
My body moves like a wild bull.
But the song never changes.

Over and over and over again, it plays
I can think of nothing else, it stays.
Lost in the trance of its melodies
The notes massage away my worries
Saturates the world with color entirely.
Headphones separate the infected from the oblivious
Separate the blissful from the serious
A thousand images, nanoseconds apart
Are conjured between the words.
I play the perfect instruments in the air
As effortless as the flight of birds.

This stupor lasts for weeks
But ultimately I always wake
Just as quickly as I was infected
Normalcy replaces the fake
Sheen with which the virus clouded my eyes,
Clouded reality with a bunch of melodic lies
Now that very song is jarring to hear, I feel such despondency
The beat is off, the lyrics meaningless, a fusion of cacophony
Finally, I am cured! The symptoms are gone.
But just as soon as I am, my conscience knows the truth
That another virus will come just as easily and uproot
My life.

Attribution: Daft Punk Pulp Fiction made on iPad by ~NyanSpaceCore, CC-BY-SA-3.0

(NaPoWriMo 2013 #19)

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