Infinite Buzzing

If they ever stop

the world will end:

shatter into a silence

of gloom.

The crust of the Earth

is the skin of a drum

that vibrates with the

pitch of a thousand calls and wriggles.

We can barely stay stood

on this boarded, fine wood

the insects use as their

musical theatre.

Their relay unceased

like the roar of a beast

desperate for a moment’s

attention.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s