that you don’t already know? Maybe that our Earth
has a voice you can only hear
if you put your ear close
to the bottom of the ocean. Really. Physicists call it a hum,
an exceedingly quiet symphony, a ceaseless rumble …
like taking a piano,
slamming all the keys at the same time, though dang,
it’s completely imperceptible to the human ear,
audible only to seismometers,
if you must know. So here we are, rotating, revolving,
speeding not only through the cosmos
at 1,000 miles an hour,
but running a red light at 23rd and Pacific, late to some appointment—
eye, ear, nose, throat, speeding toward a solution
for our creaky knees, sore hips,
our agony or ennui. To have our nails trimmed, painted
Electric Geometric, to meet a friend for a drink
but first a hug,
but first a lot of hellos, a lot of we should do this more oftens,
of how did you find this place, and should we have
the Old Fashioned or the Paloma Rustica,
all the while our planet singing its little seismic song,
a ditty, like my phone alarm, on endless repeat:
Can you hear the drums, Fernando?
You were humming to yourself …
Martha Silano is the author of five full-length poetry collections, including, most recently, Gravity Assist (Saturnalia Books 2019). Co-author of The Daily Poet: Day-by-Day Prompts for Your Writing Practice, Martha’s poems have appeared in Poetry, Paris Review, American Poetry Review, and elsewhere. Honors include North American Review’s James Hearst Poetry Prize and Cincinnati Review’s Robert and Adele Schiff Award. She teaches at Bellevue College. Gravity Assist (Saturnalia Books, 2019) Also available at Amazon.com Website Twitter