In Which Ariel Is Selectively Mute

& I, in my shoes at 3am, water behind

my ears, down the nape & Along the street 

with its undiagnosable name & an auspicion 

I could shake my shadow free from condensed 

lines, sandscattering to gigglefuss foam & 

Thought everything would be quieter because 

they say it's all just humming, Like a 

shopping mall’s minute of silence 

with the cashiers staring up at scaffolded 

ceilings & Customers tucking in their chins 

in the frozen aisle & God pinching hi-hats 

with overgrown nails & the dull mallet 

of tsss vacuuming the wareroom shut & I  

with a clam sized rock lodged in my throat & 

Everyone imagines the tiny workers in the traffic 

lights are trying their best & When I approached

the empty intersection & spun till the dark frothed

& roared, I ran a blue whale's decibels before opening

my eyes & If we could ring a gong to summon 

joy, this concave world would sound the same.

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Maxine Chen (he/they) studies creative writing in sunburnt Eora (Sydney), Australia. He’s made lots of noise in his life and is looking forward to making a great deal more. Join the chorus @maxineknows on the bird app—they're happy to harmonize.