ears that ring

Mangoes and a mocha go so well
right now, like a hazelnut spread
consoling the minute sighs found in
raisins’ grooves, old fruit resting in
the softness of our local bread
while branches fall and everyone
decides it’s not the best idea to
cross an unmarked road,
something like a snake whose
colors change with every breath,
and even the zookeeper can’t
decide as to whether the thing’s of
a poison that ends the day, week,
month, year that’s taken leave
because mothballs are too much to
tolerate at times, too much to
notice, too much to make excuses
for even when a houseguest points
at your socks, big toe poking out
like a proofreader’s oversight, or
perhaps our complacency when
the sky’s too bright to say “Hi” to,
when the night’s too fickle for us to
prepare, and honestly, being told
that your pajamas are too lose for
proper sleeping aggravates like
trickles of sweat cooling the insides
of ears that ring with the tiring
screech of clumsy contradictions.

Cat No. 88 of the 500 Cats Project

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4 thoughts on “ears that ring

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