Buzz

Twirling silence spun in whirring generators

refrigeration unit hums and frozen hours,

pumps and siphons, pins and drums all agog

thrumming fullness into empty space. 

The music paused, would-be customers pass,

glancing, penetrating a vitrine store front,

peering into promise of some other time.

I witness the throng of pulsing gravity, 

cocooned in chewy, thick combinatory air–

warmed, tossed, settled, clinging to steel.

A noisy silence bathes my skin, electric

charged, solitary, trapped and buzz coated.

Time is irreverant, caring little for the sacred–

breath, love, chance, and tones inaudibly clear.