It's no small thing to sit above a crowd

to be a part of a thing that's very loud

that makes that crowd begin to move

involuntary spasms muscular

and the rising of pressure corpuscular.

The women entranced and the men outdanced

and the urgent throb of rectangular sounds

pushed out to the importunate hounds

baying for more and thronging the floor.

Almost more than the soul can stand

in the centre of the precipital band.

The aching of harmony

the demand of rhythm

and the slurry of sounds

too muddled to respect

the musical mind.

But that's the last thing they need to fear

as the crowd begins to move and sway

in their predictable disjointed way.