Piercing buzzing

Of incandescent globes

Leaves me to wonder

If my hearing is going

Would it be better

To live by flame

With its distinctive

Flicker?

Would my nerves be calm?

Would my mind delight,

At the soothing rocking of candle light?

But, then, how would I know

The difference

Between my innocent candle

And faulty wires,

Crackling malevolently,

Or possibly

The possibility

Of radiation poisoning,

Which smells like burning?

Has scientific endeavour,

Rocked my mind with this displeasure?

Are all the Learned

Mumbling, bumbling fools?

Muttering their fears

Upon sacred pedestals?

If I should ask one,

“Is it me, or you?”

Will its mind start to wonder?

Will it exclaim,

One night by the nightlight,

“Are my ears going again?”

Staring at the bulb above,

“I’ll cut you a deal;

You keep on buzzing,

And I’ll keep trying to hear.”