CHAIN 4: Lady Mondegreen

if we at all labyrinthed hearing one
thing, the synthesis twixt ear / lip trips
             wrong. if songs longing to ring true crack
             apart, so sound smashes in earbowls
to omelets of curdled interpretation. not
speaking yellow but hell no. not sunny side
             up but run, runny; sundered connections flip-
             flopped from the pan of brain to the tongue,
fried. communication fired up with mis-
understandings turns toast. words’ inner-
             most piggies split, pickled in fracture.
             if at all hear: we must move forward
together, say: we just lose borders; forget her. for-
give the sin in us it’s tinnitus / hammers banging
             at anvils of reason. drunken worlds sink
             through silk-clogged ears & we tower
babble, scrabbling through muddled meaning.
old views slip onto skewed / skewered news. verb-
            alize: darling, I’m trusting some future,
            wide horizons, and we’re all praying for
the next / clean phase — then hear / say:
pardon, I’m lost in computerized
            Highlands and we’re all slain
            for the wet, green maze.

Decades ago, kerry rawlinson left Zambia to explore — landing in Canada. Fast forward: dozens of literary publications are accepting her poetry & art-photography (including Arc, Canadian Literature, Codex, Ditch, The Feathertale Review, Midwest Quarterly, Minola Review), and she won Edinburgh International FlashFiction Award, 2020. Though she loves jumbling words, her husband and family come first (honest). More: Tumblr + Twitter + Instagram

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