Kim Roberts
        HOW TO IMAGINE DEAFNESS
 Darken your ears until the tunnels  
with their intricate clockwork 
are sheathed in pitchy calm.  
Hum a little blue, to yourself,  
 but keep it secret.  The small bones 
will dip delicately, like willow leaves 
that merely brush the water's surface,  
in their repose.  The small hairs 
 will lie down together like tentacles.  
Listen: the lake stops its lapping 
repetition of sibilance 
(physicist, Sisyphus, sassafras)  
 and the great snail unfurls itself,  
stretches its tongue longingly 
toward the distant echo surge 
that must be the heart.  
* * *  
HEARING LOSS
 I.  
Hammer, anvil, and stirrup 
furnish the yellow vestibule,  
echo every faint breeze,  
rustle of paper, small words 
long forgotten, spoken close and low.  
Long after the electric pulses,  
the reverberation slows:  
this is song.  
The vibration lingers, white bones 
that shiver and buzz; the room 
is not empty.  Here is the drum,  
the cilia, the perfect alignments.  
Here the desire.  
Here the memory of desire.  
 II. 
Hear the memory of desire:  
rustle of paper, small words 
that shiver and buzz, the room 
long forgotten, spoken close and low.  
The vibration lingers in white bones— 
hammer, anvil, and stirrup—move mouse to 
furnished.  The yellow vestibule 
is not empty.  Here, the drum,  
the cilia.  The perfect alignments 
slow the reverberation:  
long after the electric pulses 
echoed every faint breeze,  
here was desire.  
This was song.  
  
 
  
 Kim Roberts's fourth book of poems, To the South Pole, written in the voice of 
Antarctic explorer Robert Falcon Scott, will be published later in 2014 by Broadkill Press.  She is editor of 
Beltway Poetry Quarterly, and co-editor of the web exhibit DC Writers' Homes.  This
 is Roberts's third appearance in Wordgathering. 
 Her website:   http://www.kimroberts.org.
         
    
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