“Soul Sestina” by Audrey Davis

The eighth decade of the twentieth century Its music amuses me and evokes euphoria The passion ignites my pulse like lightning That jarring guitar gives me a glorious high And Benatar’s voice rumbles like thunder With a raspy rush that leaves chills all over.

Yes, don’t remind me, the eighties are over. Yes, don’t remind me, I’m not from that century. But don’t tell me that music can’t give me thunder Don’t tell me that keyboard can’t create euphoria Because without any doubt it gets me high And it fills my core with lyrics and lightning.

Journey’s bass quickens my pulse like lightning And though I play Separate Ways over and over It never loses its legacy, it still gives me that high Tina Turner’s badass beats might be last century But good lord, her rebel rock gives me euphoria Better Be Good to Me must be made of thunder.

Music of today doesn’t generate the same thunder And it doesn’t fill my veins with electric lightning But music of today came from eighties euphoria And modern artists sample oldies from all over With mediocre sounds that make up our century But I must say, in the eighties, the quality was high.

I’ll crank Phil Collins to provide me with a high Or maybe some Prince, since I’m feeling funky thunder Anything from the eighth decade of the twentieth century. Whether the weather is sunny or rainy with lightning, I’m cruising down I-40 trying not to get pulled over, Speakers are blasting with a retro, new wave euphoria.

The eighth decade of the twentieth century Wasn’t my time to live the rock and roll lightning But today, I jam with pride, so don’t steal my thunder.