even the silence
gets oppressive-
ly loud.
Between gusts
and honks and
slithering filaments—
there rises, not rebellion,
but the bizarre
rush of deafness.
One cannot cup
one's ears
to shield them from this
invisible rush—
this turbulent
lack of so much
which claps close around,
yet booms far
from profound.
How quickly
the head becomes
clabbered,
tumescent
as a wet sponge,
thick as it now is
with the dumbness.
