Why can't they invent silent tech?
Design tech that bit closer to quiet?
Why does it need to hum or to whine
to constantly remind me
it's watching, listening, waiting,
biding it's time,
denying me the silence
that might breed peace
... or perhaps simply echo
my emptiness.  
(Thank heavens for tech.)

The Babylonian hanging gardens is vanished
                            maybe the fairies tucked it away.
Lo the clouds swim on your dry leaves, rainfalls
                                                        hum on the way!

for a split second,
the TV screen turned red,
followed by a shrill beep.
it was a small glitch,
too small to be noticeable,
so the television stayed.

the longer she watched it,
the more often it turned red,
the longer the high-pitched beep.
but she could never predict
when the glitch would happen,
and she waited for it to be normal.

eventually, she adjusted
to a perpetually red screen
and an irritating, shrill hum
until her friend came in,
asking why the screen was red
and where the noise was coming from.

she brushed it off,
claiming it was a glitch.
the screen stayed that way,
and the hum persisted.
her eyes slowly became weary,
and her ears started ringing.

her friend took her away.
her eyes and ears got a break,
and she saw a different screen,
one of many colors, showing life
in its beautiful and tragic moments.
she heard vivid, rich, musical voices.

she went back to her television,
exhausted, trying in vain to fix it,
but it would not change,
no matter how hard she tried.
questions bloomed in her mind
until it suddenly dawned on her.

this was never a glitch.
it was a complete malfunction.
her heart and head were pounding
as she held an antenna to her chest.
it weighed her arms down,
but she threw it across the room.

it crashed into the television,
and the screen went black.
the hum stopped, and all was quiet
except for her loud breathing.
she wept as relief washed over her
and she lay down, content at last.

Drowsily dreaming the dreary day away,
I lean 'gainst the sill, looking out on the city.
Deep sighs cascade from my open mouth
Before I close my eyes and hum a diddy,
Remembering the people who've shown me pity,
As the train rattles on heading south.

Crackling leaves on the walk home.

French hysterics.
Off the deep end in chasm.
Manic.
Sequence fathom through the room light.
Dreadful.
Sarcastic rummaging through cheek bones as papier-meche.
Quiet.
Rubbing eyes.
Folding Sweatshirt to tunneling tunes that keep you alive long enough.


Garrett Johnson.

You hum above you
as you feel a hum below

You hum below you
as you feel a hum above