Jews Harp - A Reflection On Turmoil

I take my pain to where ragers rage and writhe in their self-absorbed gluttony on all-winter days their tea cups are only for them interspersed with silence and solitude the streets are buildings without them who are the signposts talking too? I could have been one of them I was one of them and still am if hills facing the sun are cloud covered and I don’t look out of the window to notice then, in those un-costumed days, I am but, and it has taken rotations of earth backpacking through antonyms, through tropics I have conquered tinnitus, now a comfort blanket aiding sleep as a heart monitor line crossing a screen I have conquered deep wells, now jews harps jaw harps if you prefer, gewgaws, yes I have conquered the cave of crawling space days goblins are only a light switch and their rising finger away but my rising finger plucks at overtones and distances between neurons, between stars, between mees its sound soothing, rubbing balm on a restive chest the vibrations are fizzing and feeding me I take my white noise and float away sound, my therapy