In The Flat Field (A Poem For Bauhaus) Poem by J.R. Kelly

Gothic rockers wailing
on screeching stringed instruments.
Boisterous vocal chords resonating
out of crackled speakers.

Voices that reflect misunderstanding,
shouting out to the disillusioned,
begging for attention,
if only momentarily.

A satanic curse,
a splintered squeal,
a piercing rhyme,
a cry for help.

The rhythms,
so broken and despaired,
filling bodies with movement,
circulating through one's toes.

A bass line so curvaceous
melts into sound so atmospheric,
so telling of its time,
resulting in a spirit's combustion.