Tinnitus

An angel held a note

copper-sharp

through a coin slot

in the silence,

 

fading even

as it crescendoed.

 

It was a postponed dream of some

too-loud sound

a couple million songs

ago or just the coke.

 

What would you call this dimming

of my ear’s tambourine—

it might be the only sound

 

that only I will ever hear.


Also by Alex Tretbar

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