Sound (October)

October sounds different. Phones intone spiral ragtime then announce the caller’s name like a spectral owl. Texting makes the footsteps of a frog across a pond. Our photocopier registers each operation with the glee of a chipper songbird: 20 copies double-sided 20 copies double-sided. The heavens speak through the dashboard you are going the wrong way. Wrong way songbirds fend for themselves in repetitive heat. The ponds burn dry where the frogs made their twilight hallelujah chorus. The night owl has left the party and silently gone inland. Everywhere sound spirals emanate over gridded landscape built expressly for our comfort.