Some Sounds Remind Of
clatter-claws scratching drum skins.
Pigeons are the worst. Rose bushes sit quietly all summer
then only after they have lost their heads
do they squeak and squawk all night.
Dry joints crunch down - listening synovial cartilages
stick shift and slip out of gear.
There is the slap-smacking juggle of junk mail
as it flaps its paper wings and falls.
Some sounds remind of…
Dead-spaces clambering up a back wall,
chicken bones rattling on a tin roof,
or deranged harpsichords
goading the moon to shake its yellow faced tambourine.
Some sounds are knuckles cracking under cliffs of silence.
Sleep prods woke ribs till the breaking dawn.
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