None of the rhythms of normal existence seem to have found
A home in me. I relearned this quickly when I tried to dance.
"Go forward two steps, then sideways, then back."  I stuttered.
I paused at odd times as we moved. I can't write a sonnet or,
Rather, I won't. They're too much hard labor and never sound
Right to this unmoored musician whose slippery, capering
Efforts run rampant through rhythm's stiff forms.  It could

Be my heart. Even its beat is off.  Whatever the reason,

Like legal codes, science, mathematics, and logic, rhythm just

Isn't for me.