Poetry: A game of snakes


Thomas J. Yang

(Photo by Thomas Yang | Visual Editor)

By Maggie Koontz | Senior Columnist

I slide my red and yellow

headphones onto my head,

the cushions covering my ears,

and I plug myself in.

I push play to begin the game.

Music slips into my ears

from both sides of my headphones,

a literal earworm entering my brain.

The notes caress my inner ear

before spiraling down my spine.

The feeling rests in my chest,

the beat of a drum mimicking

my steady heartbeat

and vocals making their way

into my lungs, eager to be sung.

The music spreads outward

to my hands as a tingle.

My hands awaken,

tapping out a rhythm on my thigh,

lightly, but with purpose.

The melody holds my hips

like a dance partner.

I sway like the limbs

of a tree caught in a breeze.

My knees bend slightly

as the song shoots through them,

and then settles in my feet,

planted firmly on the ground.

A black boot softly stomps out a beat

on the salted concrete sidewalk,

and then the notes exit softly

through my sock-covered toes.

Maggie primarily writes creative nonfiction and about student life for The Pitt News. Write to her at [email protected].

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