Soundels bounce through my brain
would be phonons bundled
as e-m release and waves of taste
shudder thought-land to a stop

I can feel the network separate itself
conveying for the most part pride
become clear and even self
we see each other as us

This old thing smiles at being noticed
spreading warmth gives away its scope
What is this chorus of sense's writers
imposing naughts?
Haught?

This is the sound of the thoughts that go round and round and bring you down