I am listening by which I mean
humming over by which I
mean talking over a bit less than
usual to one of those
songs I’m told have molded
generations which I assume must
mean something has changed
inside simply from that listening
which if there were an ocean
or cups joined uselessly by string
between us might make sense but
all together here in one city on one
uncalm night bearing its torches
like what my great-
grandfather called the good
old days the truth is I don’t know
if these headphones are enough
to drown out to drown myself
out of if this song spun
backwards would sound the same