She asked me what I thought about the song
and I said I liked it
but that wasn’t entirely honest.

I didn’t exactly understand it
and when I asked a couple questions
I understood why.

“You improvised the lyrics?”
“Yeah, I just sang what I felt,”
she said, “what seemed right in the moment.”

“So you didn’t have a plan?”
“Well, I knew what I was going to do…”
I nodded, as if that made perfect sense.

That made no sense to me at fucking all.
My concrete sensibilities could not parse the lyrics,
or that way to structure a work of art.

Going in without a plan would make something
formless, something indescribable, something
probably, completely senseless. Without sense.

Who could think under those conditions?
“It’ll take me a few more listens to get it, I think.”
I explained, and she nodded, ready to begin her next song.