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.