Friday, April 3, 2015

2015 Poem-a-Day April 3 (machine prompt)

Resonant Insanity

The buzz is singular
Mixed by multitude.
Present. Persistent.
I can not tell them apart.
Surrounding me -
Radius of pain -
My ears empty
Except wave metallic.
I'd scratch them out
Or remove the machines.
Gladly. Immediately.
Make it stop. Turn it off.
Turn them all off. Please.

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