Oct. 16, 2019: "Now-Distant Rumble," by Mr. Ben

That shrill, constant hum is fading further away, that now-distant rumble 

Just couldn’t stay; it couldn’t hang.

It couldn’t sustain the rain of actions I take.

I’m no grinding fault lines, but I’m able to quake

Oh, oh, oh, I shake it.

That certain psychosomatic compression constricted my soul.

I found a pressure point and that boa slithered back to its hole.

My body is free to be the way that it needs.

I’m no massive steel engine, but I've got some steam.

Oh, oh, oh, I mean it.