Tag Archives: Hearing

#147: Ode to Ears


Ode to Ears

They say
you only
something once
you’ve lost it.
I didn’t lose
my ears, literally,
but rather, the
use of them.
some glob of
wax lodged
itself deep inside
my ears, I have
been dizzy deaf
now for several days.
A horrible experience,
but worth it: the doctor
reaches in there
with a stick and
grabs a glob,
then the nurse
comes in with the
ear canal fire hose
and it feels like
the water will
go in on one end,
travel through the
brain, and squirt
out the other side.
It’s hideous, but now

I can hear.

Ears, nothing
escapes you now,
even the contacts
under each key on
the keyboard, the
sibilance of wind,
rustling leaves
disturbed by ant
crossing: I hear that
shit now and I am
so grateful for ears.
I’m just walking
around the house
listening to things,
running water,
the turn of a door
knob, the dog’s
belabored breath.

I want to sit down
right this minute
and listen to music
and hear each
vibration under the bow,
the wow and flutter,
the buzz of the roll,
each syllable, no,
each individual letter
of each word.
Ears, nothing’s
stopping you now
from hearing every
thing in your path.
You go.
I’m right behind you.


Filed under Poetry