Static

` Slandered wavelengths from an old worn out speaker cracking with each unbalanced bass note Finding my brain on overload and a slower heart beat out of tune Static becomes the union, tuning dial gone, volume at high glowing in the corner of cobweb melodies lingering on a distant shelf now sinking lower in this roadside armchair (Where are the earplugs when you need them) An empty bottled fortress protects the pain at my feet, brown glass soldiers stand guard, bottle cap mementos flip like dancing beans on a folding table at El Mercado One more for the road (like I need this) along crooked dotted lines, weaving nonsense two at a time, smirking snickering like children hiding from a babysitter, mimicking the way Still the static, white noise, drowns out the joy and the trees cry, when birdsong of night haunts with a sound interrupting the dance of the beer bottle chorus line and I tap a painful toe