i listened for the crumbling of walls-
to hear them reverberate down the alley-
i listened for new noise
to change the tune
that’s been playing
for so long-

what i found was blood-
running through veins,
pumping in ears,
hidden beneath skin-
reminders of that which is too easily forgotten,
like the way prayers are answered-

we are the howling-
the noises you close your windows to avoid-
the sounds that keeps you up at night,
the thump-thump-thump
of the bass coming from the trunk
of a lowrider
are ours-

we are the howling-
ignored until we can be
ignored no longer-
the starving children of texas,
the forgotten ones,
the people who exist
in abandoned spaces-

we are what you find
when you peel back the skin
from the head of
a drum machine-

can you hear us now?
ringing in your ear-
drowning out the sounds
you’d prepared for yourself-

can you hear us now?
preaching in dirty basements
with amplified voices-
telling stories
about a world you’ll never know-