On Hearing

to hear pages flip in libraries
to hear the man cursing at the wind for being cold
to hear the ants marching, one-by-one, hurrah
to hear God to hear the woman at the counter say my order is ready
to hear the unintelligible strife of birds
to hear the space between myself and the bed where my father
lay like his body is a nightmare
to hear the wind in your bangs
to hear the neighbor’s dog at 2 am
to hear the ping pong slam on the table
to hear the awkward slosh of swollen limbs
like water balloons about to pop
to hear the laughter of my friends
to hear water fountains pool
to hear children fighting in the snow
to hear a touchdown
to hear water boil and steam rise
to hear the microwave hum
to hear the beep of the cremator
to hear lights flicker
to hear your heart in your ear
to hear the machinal song of a monitor who cannot care to care
to hear the start of the car engine and the twist of my key
to hear the hard exhale of doctor ask us if we would like to kill my father
to hear the silence in a room full of people
to hear joy between sobs
to hear Amazing Grace
to hear static.