she had dumps like a truck truck truck

around one thirty a.m. last night on the way home, following the vibrations of treble and bass for a couple blocks, we ended up walking past the first few dancing souls, the beginning of a late night baile funk party on the main street, via apia. i slowed my steps, in a trance, past a wall of speakers, nearly twenty two feet high, and equally as wide, blasting the thong song in portuguese. i felt my organs and my soul rattle in my chest. i looked up in awe and back as we passed, relieved my body was still in tact and my ears still loved me, despite what they had to endure.