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Saturday, January 10, 2015

Make Some Noise

A clinking tinkling of shattered strings
Hanging from where it seems Harpo's fingers only recently had been
Was a knotted robin's nest tangle of metal cacophony
Shaped in sculpted waves thusly embodied
With the sine wave of the last noise they had uttered

Noise to you
Isn't noise at all
But music to this guy over here
Whose taste has always been in question

Clapping smacking and cracking
So the similarly shaped rocks came together
Sometimes with a random flash of spark
From directly between Mongo's paws
As he clumsily smashed them together
Over and over
And over again

Mongo's music hurts our ears
We try to tell him in neon lit letters
But so busy is he making it
That all he sees is noise

A joyful noise is what was requested unto the Lord
And so our voices spake forth
Into the still air of the cathedral
Reflecting refracting and dissipating in and out of the whisper corner
With all our might we worshiped with song
Ignoring the aching ears of the Bishop
Who was regretting his boyhood choir training

Ignorance is bliss
And without Mrs. Whippersham's peach switch and sharp tongue
Bishop Schwartz would never know how awful we sounded
It were a joyful noise unto the Lord indeed

An adjustment of throttle and Warpig's chopper dropped into tune
Singing its stocatto potato potato at near peak RPM's
Two by two and sixteen strong with the rest of the MC
In internal combustion orchestra with all thirty-two cylinders aflame
Voices raised to the god of speed
Whose definitions of noise and song were curiously the same