.

Scattered wavelengths
from a worn out speaker
cracking with each unbalanced bass note
Finding my brain on overload
and a slower heart beat
out of tune

Static the union,
tuning dial gone, volume at high
glowing in the corner of cobweb melodies
lingering on a distant shelf
now sinking lower in this
roadside armchair

An empty bottled fortress
collects the pain at my feet
glass brown soldiers stand,
bottle cap mementos flip
like dancing beans on a folding table
painted Dos Equis green at El Mercado

One more for the road
a staggering venture
along crooked dotted lines, weaving nonsense
two at a time, smirking
snickering like a prideful ending
mimicking the way

Still the static, white noise,
foaming seas on wavelength casualties
and the trees cry, when birdsong of night
haunts with a sound
interrupting the dance
of the beer container guards
and I tap a painful toe