Since the Wood Slat Fell Slap

Since the wood slat fell slap
against the Italian tile kitchen floor
startling us both my tinnitus
has hissed its buzz ring rap
on the flow of nocturnes of Faure
Quietude has been overcome
by noise by cacophony by crap
as if a thousand bats are flapping
toward some demon events
where music makes no sense
where bleeding bloated blimpomats
Moloch among them portend
a burning world of mayhem where
the poison of extinct reptiles
gushes forth in never-ending revenge