Gardening Alone (A Poem About Making Beats)

I’m gardening alone
In my headphones
And I get to create
An entire universe from

Thirty hertz to twenty thousand;
This is what it’s like to be God:
Perpetual experimentation —
No backspace; no going back to erase;

There are no mistakes; only
Unexpected transitions,
Surprise atonalities, and
Somehow the fugues always

Lock into place; how do two
Sounds become lovers once
They meet? I can feel them
Kissing when my fingers press

Down on the keys; but I fall
Too much in love with the
Rough draft; I need to learn
To make sand paintings that

I can blow apart whenever
I choose, trusting that the same
Stardust is always ready to come
Back and dance into my fingers.