Ars Cacophonia
oh give me the click of your tongue against your teeth
as you tangle up at a fork in the street
howl about your bad bad childhood honey
—I wanna hear how your daddy turned the air blue
quit clearing your throat
let your words bound free—giddy guttural
leashless tormented
stumbling clamoring
to fall out of the windows and into the sky
needless to say—do not give yourself a parachute
darling, I wanna know the way our bodies sound
clanging pans down a stairwell
or the ring of wind chimes on a balcony
—start your throat’s engine humming behind the dashboard,
tap a cicada rhythm on the steering column
a current that makes the airbag cock an ear & scream
in a supermarket in six years time—slap a palm on a shopping cart
fumble the zucchini & freeze—oh the noise your body made
Shannon Wolf is a British writer living in Lafayette, LA, who earned her MA in Creative Writing at Lancaster University and is currently an MFA candidate in Poetry at McNeese State University. Her poetry, short fiction and non-fiction, which can also be found under the name Shannon Bushby, have appeared in, or is forthcoming from Gravel, The Forge, Great Weather for Media and many more.
Artist Statement: Poetics of sound, the liberation of clamor and tumult, the freedom of racket and rumpus. I hear the cracking of ice as my boots shatter puddles. I hear the jingle of shells in windbreaker pockets. The slap of waves. The sounds of destruction and creation, of being alive in the world. This photograph is loud. I hear the crunch of a million zebra mussel shells under my feet.
Art: “Clip,” 2017 (Lake Erie, Canada)