(no subject)
Kindergarten Sonics
1.
Blowing in my ears,
Whistling like a mosquito,
The diaphragm keeps beating,
Pulsing,
And I can feel the roots snarled in my sea shell.
I cast the conch as far as possible,
And when I pull it back in,
I snag my ear drum,
Pulsing,
Like a heart ripped from a cracked stoop.
2.
Rockers on porches whistle back,
And soon I’m dunking my head in a pothole,
Throwing myself into the shallows,
Running from any shape that isn’t closed.
Every ray is sharpened and squirming.
The diaphragm isn’t afraid of a siege,
And it is only a matter of time
3.
Before my lungs unravel,
The strands picked up by kindergarteners,
Twirled around a pole,
Latched to balls,
Tangled in doors,
Thrown in the air,
Allowed to drift back down like a lost scarf,
Parachuting into a melted parking lot.
1.
Blowing in my ears,
Whistling like a mosquito,
The diaphragm keeps beating,
Pulsing,
And I can feel the roots snarled in my sea shell.
I cast the conch as far as possible,
And when I pull it back in,
I snag my ear drum,
Pulsing,
Like a heart ripped from a cracked stoop.
2.
Rockers on porches whistle back,
And soon I’m dunking my head in a pothole,
Throwing myself into the shallows,
Running from any shape that isn’t closed.
Every ray is sharpened and squirming.
The diaphragm isn’t afraid of a siege,
And it is only a matter of time
3.
Before my lungs unravel,
The strands picked up by kindergarteners,
Twirled around a pole,
Latched to balls,
Tangled in doors,
Thrown in the air,
Allowed to drift back down like a lost scarf,
Parachuting into a melted parking lot.