Short Poems To Read Alone

#7

Still sounds like them outside the door

so we keep opening it

and pressing rewind

pressing shuffle, pressing play,

foolishly

loosing earphones but the music

doesn't fade away, church bells ringing

like a telephone nobody's answering

like the microwave at dawn or

like crickets screaming for sex

in a hundred voices at a thousand dreams

because nothing really sleeps here anymore

where we notice it's odd that something so loud

can live in the quiet