Log In
That Record Backwards
By Phalanx
Sometimes I tune the radio to a dead station
For a moment to make sense of the noise.
Working with sound shards and red fingers
Is what I call picking through static.
You can train your ears and heart filter
To trust chaos through mortal scales
Turning conductors to ash in a binary ink
Bitch slap.
I'm not interested in hearing faces
Tell me what is or isn't.
They assume, themselves.
When I speak, the trouble you encounter
Isn't an inability on my part to make sense.
You just haven't figured out how to listen.
Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited.
Ask the author first.
Copyright 2014 Phalanx
Published on Wednesday, June 4, 2014.
Filed under:
"Poetry"
Comments on "That Record Backwards"
Log in to post comments.
-
On Sunday, February 25, 2018, carlosjackal
(3015)
wrote:
This was a doozy of a write...Every line a fantastic and integral part in the build up to those final brilliant lines. Top drawer poetics.
-
A former member wrote:
I love the last 3 lines! How true is it that people hear what they want to hear no matter how you say it?
-
On Thursday, June 5, 2014, TropicalSnowstorm
(1703) wrote:
I enjoyed this one and I like the way you start with listening to a dead station on the radio...that is an interesting device. That places beauty in the ear of the beholder. Ciao, T/S
Phalanx's Latest Works Feed
Join