brettworks

J. and I were talking
about musical technique of a sort,
maybe something more.

We were talking
about the feel of another drummer’s time,
about how in tiny ways
it sounded wonky.

He plays louder instead of stronger I say
making gestures like clouds.

J. reaches for a conclusion already formed.
His playing doesn’t have soul he says
waiting for my response.

(Where does one get soul?)

(You just have it.)

It doesn’t drag or rush though
I split the difference.

But the feel isn’t there, J. rebounds.

It never settles.
Right, it never settles.