We sat around the television, watching stolen cable, feeling guilty
about every minute of CNN, of infomercials,
of staticky silhouettes writhing in the dark.
Sorting out the rhythm in the hum,
Searching for ringing,
(dinner bells, ice cream bells);
fled exotic tocsins, clapperless,
hid behind garden gates
When I am with you these places are nowhere and the
deaf mute blind black night
rolls slowly over, I laugh
to feel you ringing next to
me. Know that I am the sirens
and it is of them I choose to speak.