appealing

The Maynard
Spring 2018

Emily Osborne

Tinnitus

We spawned and scuffed CDs, learned
audio empathy by grazing bystanders’
beats and FM frequencies. The aughts
brought hush-hush pods and buds,
closemouthed buses. Adults still agreed
we’d X-out decibels or acquire chronic
rings when no one’s dialling. Now we’ve
subbed tones for buzzes, apps plugged
to amp our phantom FOMO, jazzing
in arrhythmic pulses, like pacemakers
with tangled signals. Our days shuffle
with spectral pings when no one’s msg-ing.
We’re HSPs synced to faint text flutters,
voices breaking in percussive stutters.