Ode to Perfect Places by Lorde

Ode to Perfect Places by Lorde After Lorde

somewhere buried underneath a bed of shriveled roses

damp dirt & fractured cobblestone

the dead lay in longing for a dance floor to call their own

while the world morphs into a black and white filmstrip

death awaits with skeleton key fingers lingering towards a kill switch

callous claw-like hands hovering over a trigger/

a button/a lever to mute the sound & blind the sight for all eternity

although death may be the “great equalizer”

it sure as hell will never be a great silencer

so let us be the practice course for our future ghosts

fore the world may be on a down-slope, but it doesn’t mean we have to be

lets turn the music into a beacon for the cosmos let its joy follow us to our graves

fore if energy cannot be created nor destroyed

let the energy be inclusive to a mosaic of smiles,

a jigsaw finally brought together as one let our rhythm carry us into the void

if there is a celestial body and those who reside over it

call it heaven, let our song become a gospel to make angels do more than sing

let it be the Eden we lost let it be the paradise we found

and let the songs sung inside us be our plus one

J.B. Stone is a neurodivergent writer from Brooklyn, now residing in Buffalo, NY. He is the author of two digital chapbooks, A Place Between Expired Dreams And Renewed Nightmares (Ghost City Press 2018) and forthcoming, Fireflies & Hand Grenades (Stasia Press 2019). His fiction, poetry, and reviews have appeared in BlazeVOX, Maudlin House, Glass, Occulum, SOFT CARTEL, Peach Mag, Breadcrumbs and elsewhere. You can check out more of his work at jaredbenjaminstone.com and tweets @JB_StoneTruth.