Oh, christ.
I'm now emotionally invested in a stranger's ear.
Thread.
You will be too.
I'm now emotionally invested in a stranger's ear.
Thread.
You will be too.
Reposted from
Rob Palk
I just asked my pharmacist if my ear was a bit blocked and he had a look and SCREAMED and told me to go to A&E immediately so off I go, gang!
Comments
Than.
One.
The last update was 6 minutes ago! 🤔
He couldn't miss a thing.
But he kept the beetle -
if that is the word for
the rattling nut
hooked from his head -
in a jar. If you asked it, it would
say, I have sailed.
Apologies for the long thread!
the keenness of my father's
baby-cry - if he slept on the good ear
he was untroubled.
Strange, then, that he allowed
castor oil into his head.
It slipped past the hard stone
which someone whipped out
with a cotton bud.
The new noise,
that first unhindered day
In the canal of his ear,
it kept it's own horizon
while the sea brought his stomach aching to his mouth.
Unknown, it was the mascot
of the man for years. He carried it
through the rain and it heard things meant
for him.
It buzzed with his vow
I can't find this online so I'll type it out. Hope you enjoy.
'Navigavi - I Sailed', by Penny Boxall
They sent my father's father to the desert.
He worked on aeroplanes and tanks,
A seed inside their boiling metal husks.
He tickled the wheeze of purpose
from the scrap while the world spun
with propellers.
At night, he lay on
the cold sand and by day he stood
on the hot sand.
Once, a beetle,
seeing no other way, blundered
into his ear. It swam the tiny orbit
of his hammer and anvil, a waxy
navigation, and was amber-trapped
before either of them knew it.
It had genesis
in the hot human cave of an ear.
It bent to my grandfather's work
as he did, heard the bombers
guzzling like bees.
When they sent for him,