My Father Wills Himself Deaf Poem by David Kowalczyk

How he loved the sound
of sound itself, when he
was young enought to be
wild with love, when his
blood boiled with desire
and crashed in great breaking
waves against his heart.
Now, the faceless dark god
of the pagan masses proclaims
'Noise is power! '
The sky seems crazy
with the din and holler
of monster trucks and boom boxes.
'This is a good day to become
like stone, ' Father tells himself.
In a world sick with noise,
to be deaf is to be blessed.
Nobody makes good sound anymore.