Digging Windows -A Poem on "Tunnels" (Poem Two)

An ear to the wall of sound,
I found in my headphones
And somewhere in my soul,
Lovers digging tunnels
And running away from home

I’ll be a mole for their music,
Scooping notes by the shovelful
Of melodic lust that busts
My eardrums and thrusts through
Every orifice I possess,

Yes this is my escape.
The snare drum and string rush
Harmonies loud than hushed.
A Win for a Regine
And both of them just for me.

Windows are being made daily
In a hundred different graveyards
And numerous neighborhoods
Windows in the ground and on
Rooftops where singers sit whistling

I’ll dig them all out
In you, in them, in death and in bed
I’ll be visiting.