The Frequency

The radiator is knocking in the corner,

a rhythmic, wet thud against the floorboards.

On the screen, the gloved hand pulls the tab.

The sound is a jagged rip of heavy plastic,

teeth catching on a loose thread of polyester.

It’s a low-budget noise.

The kind of sound that sits in your molars

long after you’ve muted the news.

The radiator keeps knocking.

I wonder how many threads are left

before the whole thing comes apart.