Chainsaws

by Sam M. Phillips

I’m too sensitive and aware,

I swear I’m going crazy

With all these chainsaws;

The sound bores

Into my hazy

And blighted soul—

.

Eardrums toll,

Death knell,

Can’t quell

Sensation and singularity,

I don’t have the ability.

.

I inhabit this body,

Alone inside,

Along for the ride,

Slide once more,

What’s in store

For me at the end

Of the long road?

.

They try to send

Me mad with heavy load,

Goad me to insanity,

The inanity of the community,

What a pity

People want to use

All these chainsaws,

I want to abuse

Them, but social mores,

And stupid laws,

Restrain me

As the sound

Strains me.

.

I have found

I can’t patiently

Wait for them to stop—

Because they never stop!

.

They never drop

Their noisy instruments,

Impediments to my day—

Go away!

.

Play with your toys elsewhere,

It annoys me and I don’t care

If your yard needs work—

You’re a jerk

And I want you to be quiet,

How can I get

Any work done,

Or even have fun

If the endless buzzing

Keeps on fuzzing

Up my brain,

Causing me pain

As it goes on again.

.

I gain nothing

As you’re stuffing

Branches into a woodchipper,

It is a proper

And complete nuisance,

With no chance

Of it stopping

Even for a moment,

Oh, the torment

As they are lopping

Endless trees to pieces—

The riotous noise never ceases!

***

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