Frownland

Why don't you tune your guitar
Body hums and split second reviews.
Back bends and cart wheel stands
Hell bent in an epoxy facemask.
Water trickles down a slender wrinkling cheek
...Murmurs heard just above
Rafters and wood screws.

The guitar entuned echoes,
Rolling across overtonic fields the pitches warble.
Pitch's warble rattles a chain
And spinning ceiling fans
Weren't listened from but understood.

A chirp saddles a brazen glaze
A haze covered spotlights
A cross eyed glassy gaze
Crossword puzzling grave answers
Words splatter the page
Ink lines whither, fade.

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Studies show that when a given norm is changed in the face of the unchanging, the remaining contradictions will parallel the truth.