High Frequency

My head is a hive of white noise,

a steady and high-pitched scream.

The amps and the lights and the boys

are fading away like a dream.

I press my cold brow to the glass

as the taxi light flares on the street.

I watch all the skyscrapers pass

in a silence that’s never complete.

I reach in my pocket and find

a foam plug all yellowed and crushed.

It’s the wreckage I’m leaving behind

now that the shouting is hushed.

The city is moving in mime,

a movie with all the sound gone.

I’m just killing a little more time

till the ringing subsides in the dawn.