Hammocked on two beanbags
With a glass of cold beer
And a magazine
Splayed across my lap
The silence in the apartment
Making my ears ring
Too many local metal shows
And shooting guns without
Ears on
So now a phantom
Traces a musical triangle in my ear
Always

Just as well
Silence
True silence
Is supposed to drive people
Crazy
And I don't need
Anymore of that

My girlfriend and her roommates
Will be heading back from
Work soon on the subway cars that
Constantly hold the stale smell of
People

"This is nice"
I say outloud
To no one  
And by acknowledging
The moment so I have
Adulterated it

Existential crisis aside  
This is nice