No Matter The Volume

There are the voices. The wordless atonal snippets of songs.
The horror house walls. The tilt. The almost darkness.
A typical morning, this bridge to light and color.

You have learned. You can listen now
and not sing along. Indeed it is the creation of new songs
that bring you through, and out, no matter the volume.

About this poem

Just getting my morning started.

The picture was taken at Mass MoCA, the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art. It is, itself, a piece of art, with odd, spooky, wonderful snippets of atonal songs bursting out at random moments as you walk through.

Tom