Sensory by C.M. Crockford

The clapping hands 

(cannon fire)

thousands of them

battering his skull – 

sharp sickening shocks – 

 

all the boy can do – 

 

scream.

 

Mouth gaping 

fingers clawing 

at temples.

 

Fifteen years pass.

 

He hears music in a great city.

He’s changed.

He watches.

Listens.

 

The instruments 

build into white noise

 

inside – 

fevered cathedrals.

Delicate wombs.

 

He knows it is

a tower of sound

where he would live

in Prayer

 

to beauty.

The violent discord 

of this world.

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C.M. Crockford is a writer with credits in Neologism Poetry Journal, Oddball Magazine, Vastarien, and Toho Journal Online among others. He is on the autistic spectrum. He lives in Philadelphia with his partner Julia.

Published by Serotonin

Keep pushing that boulder up the mountain.