I wish I lived in
five-four time, one beat
ahead, or one behind of
marches, or a steady waltz,
where songs continue through the
halts in patterns that begin
to grow beyond the rhythms
that we’ve known while breaking
up the measured pace of
music filling oblong space with
low bass notes and treble
tones exploding through our gramophones
that settle into some new
groove and welcome a familiar
tune: Oh, I wish I
lived in five-four time.