Seashells for Ears

I got confused 

when they tested my hearing

by making me stare at uppercase E’s 

projected on the wall

all backwards and forwards 

small talk in bold print hieroglyphs,

I got flustered 

when they checked my eyesight

by making me listen for low tones 

only those in the ocean

could ever possibly hear;

eventually it was discovered 

when at last I took my hands

away from my head

that I’d grown seashells

where my ears were. 

Morning, noon and night

I can live with the waves 

coming in to shore.

Morning, noon and night

I can live with giving the tide 

control for a while.

Rich Boucher resides in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Rich’s poems have appeared in The Nervous Breakdown, Eighteen Seventy, Menacing Hedge, The Rye Whiskey Review and Cultural Weekly, among others, and he has work forthcoming in Pulp Literary Magazine and Eunoia Review. Rich recently served as Associate Editor for the online literary magazine BOMBFIRE. He is the author of All Of This Candy Belongs To Me, a collection of poems published by Jules’ Poetry Playhouse Publications. Peep richboucher.bandcamp.com for more. He loves his life with his love Leann in the perpetually intriguing Southwest.