Fred Aiken Writing

Category: Poetry

ALGORITHMIC RHYTHM

i like to discover new music,
but not too quickly,
or otherwise, the experience is too disorienting,
i start to listen to the newly discovered artist or band
over and over,
my ears might begin to bleed, and i memorize all their songs,
even the ones they didn’t want me to hear,
and i start singing and humming my favorite in the shower
or while at work,
until the new music is no longer new,
and because it is old i grow to hate it,
despise every note, rhythm, and instrument,
but that never seems to matter too much,
since there’s always new music to unveil,
as the rotation continues, 
the algorithm sheds light

NEW GLASSES

laying flat on the ground while an invisible spin
shapes over my periphery 
and grabs hold of my vision, a blur of objects
blending into one another,
awkwardly running into each other,
until the horizon looks frozen in time,
a still life pointed out and confirming
how much i need new glasses