Bassed on Treble

Bassed on Treble

Sour over sky

I’m bitter, I’m high.

It’s blue, it’s red,

And its colors are bright,

Brown leaves on the pavement dry.

In mornings I shiver,

Age-old, fire, hued,

Its gas is polluted,

Blown and gloated

Thunder rumble,

And I hold its hand

It yells at me and I yell back

Muted, muffled. Hazed.

Swirled head,

Twirled pupil.

It’s dark, it’s an island,

Empty, wet,

A sand castle

Trafficked

It’s a permanent scar

I’m bassed on treble,

Press play, burst my bubble.

It screams for me,

Surges in my grip,

And I become, silence

It’s locked in, white,

It’s banged, curled,

And it’s light

Frozen in the oven,

Hump, lump, mass,

Its mind is resting on the grass

I’m bassed on treble.

Pumping.

I am sipped,

I am glass.