like a child's giggle
it rings through
the spine,
as if a thousand
and one pages flipped
at one time.

as though a beautiful
melody it bursts through
the joints,
thrumming like bass
banging like drums;
a tramatic point.

even of flutter
of angel wings
to consider,
obsolite function,
beautiful, hateful,
always a litter;
always quite bitter.

but a sound
a sound
no time to
turn around
the beat
it strikes
instant
hyptnotize.

blocks out
all sense
brain scampering
hence
not smart
but right
thrumming, shadow,
never bright.

the sound
a sound 
vital but.
pounds...
obnoxious
sound!
it holds
time unfound.

beating, conceding, heart fleeing...