Acoustical Physics
written by: Anabell Donovan
It’s not complicated,
paper cups and a string.
He pulls a dented cup
from his love poem
ink stained shirt pocket
there’s no cup at the other end,
and he speaks,
modulates his voice
into pleading whispers.
to sound waves and vibrations
misplaced in wintry air.
I get no tone
on my string telephone,
and I stare
at an expectant
white cup circle
wondering, what design
broke the narrative
in the finite affine
to not satisfy the axiom?
He holds the string,
he is the broken line.
And I am the fool
kept for amusement.
Until I’m not.
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