Tag: Poem

  • Tinnitus.

    Bells ring; drums, ring; hell, even freedom rings.This is not a ring.More akin to a whistley whine.Or a whiny whistle? That never stops.It’s not a pulsating, or a sireny whine;It’s one, single, unbroken note,Like a dead guy slumped over his car horn. That’s always there.I can’t ever not hear it.Even when I’m not listening to […]